A Different Crisis
by ouhusker7
Summary: (LBD universe) Darcy is about to ask Lizzie to the theater when he finds out about her videos.
1. Not quite real

_Bernie Su said once that they did not originally plan for Lizzie to tell Darcy about her videos during ep. 60. Previously, in "A Different Date," I explored what might have happened if she told him about her videos at Pemberley, when he asked her to the theater. This story explores another possibility: what if Darcy found out from someone else?_

_In this story, Wickham and Lydia don't date. Maybe it doesn't occur to him to make and sell a tape with her, so he doesn't seek her out in the first place. Maybe Jane doesn't disappear from Lydia's life for a month, or Mary doesn't date Eddie, so Lydia isn't as lonely and vulnerable. Imagine whatever you like._

_Whatever the reason, Wickham is not occupied with Lydia. He caught up on Lizzie's videos after running into her just before Lydia's birthday, so he can see she hasn't told Darcy about them. And in that, he sees an opportunity to hurt Darcy badly. How could he resist?_

_(Note: Darcy not knowing about Lizzie's videos changes the contents of some of them, particularly those filmed at Pemberley. The alternate videos for this story are listed at ouhusker7 dot tumblr dot com /post/109747080818_

_New to the Lizzie Bennet Diaries? Here's a complete playlist: youtube dot com playlist?list=PL_ePOdU-b3xcDyyzeR5NjxeLEElsqYzn1)._

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**Prologue**

Lizzie's videos lately were both sickening and hilarious to him. Sickening because she mooned over Darcy now like he'd always mooned over her. In her last video, sparks had flown while they discussed international communications rights, for pete's sake. Still, the more hopeful Darcy became, the more hilarious it was, because he was still clueless about her videos.

George fantasized sometimes about being the one to tell him.

"I need to speak with you," he'd say after somehow cornering him. "The last few months have been crazy. I've been hiding something from you that I shouldn't have and that I can't any more. I need to admit something to you." It wouldn't take Darcy long to realize what he was quoting. Once he had him reeling, he could take his time revealing how Lizzie had exploited his rejection to make herself famous. And that would be the end of anything between Darcy and Lizzie. He could never forgive her—as he'd pompously informed George more than once, he "abhorred disguise of any sort." Shock, humiliation, betrayal, grief—he would see it all in Darcy's face.

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**Chapter one: Not quite real**

_Tuesday, January 22, 2013_

Darcy paused in the hallway outside Lizzie's office and fought a surge of dread. All efforts to calm himself, both back in his office and while walking through the building, had been for naught. He was shaken to the depths—literally shaking, he realized as he clenched his hands together. He needed to talk to Lizzie, to confront her, to ask her…he raised his hand and knocked.

"Good afternoon, Lizzie," he said quietly when she bade him enter.

"Good afternoon to you!" She favored him with a welcoming smile that, if he had come to ask a different question, would have sent his heart soaring. Now he had to look away to keep his composure.

He sat on the stool beside her and looked at that ever-present red light. "You're filming again."

"Uh, yeah. Should I—."

"You're quite prolific."

Her eyes flew wide open as she searched his face. Interminable seconds ticked by, but he couldn't bring himself to voice the question.

"You know about my videos," she finally said, faintly.

Darcy looked away from her, blinking, his face growing pale. Some part of him had clung to the idea that maybe there was an explanation, that maybe, despite the evidence of his own eyes, Wickham had orchestrated everything and she was innocent. Now that last shred of hope disintegrated. She was guilty.

"I was told about them just now," he said quietly.

Lizzie looked away as well. "I, um…I should have told you myself. I knew you might find out someday, but every time I tried to think how to tell you, I just…chickened out, I guess." She inhaled unsteadily and faced him. "I am so sorry, Darcy."

_Sorry_ was well and good, but it did nothing for the questions and doubts rioting through him. "Every friend of mine that you know is in your playlist. Bing, Caroline, Fitz—you showed all of us without our consent?"

"N-no. Well, Bing didn't know. He thought they were letters to Charlotte. But I had permission from Caroline and Fitz."

_Letters to Charlotte?_ Another time, he would have puzzled over that, but now her last sentence drew all his attention.

"They've known, for months?" Darcy's voice shook a little as he considered the implications of her words. "Is…is this some kind of colossal joke?" He could not believe that Fitz, who had been his confidant after his parents' deaths and again after Wickham hurt Gigi, would do something like this. But neither could he believe that Lizzie would lie about something that could be so easily checked.

"No! I mean…yes, Caroline knew ever since we stayed at Netherfield. And Fitz asked to be in my videos, but he didn't know about them. He—." She must have seen his skeptical look, for she stopped abruptly and rubbed her forehead. "It's kind of complicated, I guess. W-which ones did you watch?"

"They are your diaries," he said stiffly. "I could not watch them without your permission. I watched part of one video only, the first with myself in the thumbnail. I could not believe that you…". He swallowed hard. "That is, I did not want to accuse you falsely."

"Oh." Her face flushed a deep red.

He waited for her to say more, to explain or defend herself, but she just sat there as if frozen, looking remorseful and wary.

"That video showed me bringing my letter. The previous one, called 'Are You Kidding Me!', with over three hundred thousand views…". His eyes flicked to her camera, and he set his jaw. "That is the one that shows…everything?"

"Yes." Her voice caught, and her hand reached toward him, then withdrew. "I can't tell you how much I regret posting that video, and the things I—."

Then something within him snapped. "Do you know how I was informed about your videos, Lizzie? George Wickham walked into my office and _quoted_ my own words to me!"

"Oh my G-!" she gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

Darcy couldn't bear looking into her wide, horrified eyes. He turned his face away, his fists clenched tight as he tried desperately to regain his control. It was no use. He whirled back to her, his voice harsh and hoarse. "Why would you do this?"

"I don't…um…". She looked down, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Did you hope something like this would happen? Did you hate me that much?"

"No! I didn't think it would hurt you!"

"You didn't think this would hurt me?" he shot back, insulted and disbelieving. "What am I, some kind of emotionless monster?"

"No! That's not—no! It's just…I'd been posting videos for months, and you never found them. I guess I thought you never would." She made a small, helpless gesture. "It was stupid, I know."

She seemed in earnest, her explanation plausible. But the motive Wickham had suggested was even worse. How could he bear it if she admitted that…"Did you hope that posting a dramatic rejection scene would increase your viewership? Particularly because I am known in your field?"

"Oh G-, no!" she cried, her hand clutching at his arm. "I didn't, Darcy, I swear I didn't!"

"Then _why_?" Anger and pain burned within him, and he nearly shouted the words at her.

Lizzie flinched, sending a corresponding shudder through his own body. He rose abruptly and strode away from her, thrusting shaking fingers through his hair. That flinch from her cut through the tumult within him as nothing else could have. He turned back a minute later, only to see her turn quickly away from him, her face crumpled and messy and miserable.

Darcy's shoulders slumped, and he walked back to her, pressing his handkerchief to her hand. "I'm sorry. I should not have raised my voice. Don't cry, Lizzie, please."

She took the handkerchief, her tears falling faster. Unable to offer her further comfort, he began to pace behind her, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his air gloomy. Was this the end for him, for whatever chance there might have been for them? How could it not be, when she had so thoroughly betrayed his trust? She would not even try to explain why she had done it—but then again, could he believe her now even if she did attempt an explanation?

Pain ripped through him anew as he listened to himself. What greater torture was there than to have these thoughts about _her_?

Movement behind him caught his attention, and he turned to see Lizzie hastily packing away her camera. He watched, uncomprehending, until she went on to shove some books into a bag.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing," she said, her chin wobbling dangerously, her eyes fixed on her task. "You must want me out of your sight."

_**No.**_ The word hammered through him, its force making it the most definite thing in his mind at that moment. For all the uncertainties that racked him, this he knew beyond all doubt. He did not want her to leave. Not like this.

"I am not asking you to leave."

Her hands stilled, and she looked up at him. "You're…not?"

There was a pause before he replied. "You have not yet finished your independent study, and I do not wish to hinder the completion of your degree." Then his voice acquired a bite again. "Assuming that is, in fact, why you are here?"

"It is, yes."

He studied her for a long moment before nodding curtly. "If that is the case, then you may stay, if you wish."

Silence fell between them. Lizzie stood clutching her bag, uncharacteristically subdued, her gaze liquid still and laden with questions. Darcy felt defenseless somehow under that gaze, as if all his turmoil and grief were stripped bare before her. He had to get away.

"Whichever you choose, I…I wish you every success." He headed for the door but paused when she spoke.

"I, um…I'll stay. Thank you."

He nodded again, gave her one serious, parting look, and escaped.

_What just happened?_ Darcy wore a path to and fro across his office, his breaths quick and rasping as he tried to come to grips with his new reality.

Lizzie had a vlog. A phenomenally successful vlog. A vlog of which he had been ignorant. A vlog that covered the length of their acquaintance, that showcased the most disgraceful and thoroughly regretted minutes of his life.

A vlog whose viewers included his worst enemy. The events of the last hour flashed relentlessly through his mind. Wickham sauntering in, brash and insolent. The paralyzing numbness when Wickham quoted those hated, intensely private words. The churning in his stomach when he assumed Wickham had somehow obtained the footage without Lizzie's knowledge and would now attempt to blackmail him, only to find that it was so much worse than that. Wickham's unholy smirk as he disclaimed all responsibility and laid the blame squarely at Lizzie's feet. The pain that consumed him when a simple internet search, and then her own words, confirmed the whole.

Lizzie had broadcast his humiliation and heartbreak for the world to see and then lied to him to ensure his ignorance. The truth was more than he could bear. Yet he had to bear it, had to accept that Lizzie…that she was…

A knock sounded at his door. Darcy raised his head, bewildered and disoriented, unsure how much time had passed. He was in no shape to see anyone.

"Later, please, or leave a message with Reynolds," he called.

"William?"

His eyes slid shut. Business he could ignore, but not his sister. "Come in, Gigi."

Gigi took one look at him, closed the door behind her, and rushed over. "What's wrong? Sh-she didn't say no, did she?"

He didn't bother asking how she knew he'd been working up the courage to try again with Lizzie. "I did not ask her."

"Then what happened? Did you two fight or something?"

He had told his sister about Lizzie during their annual Christmas ski trip, and since Lizzie's arrival at Pemberley Digital, Gigi had helped his cause as much as she could, welcoming her and volunteering them to give her a tour of the city last Saturday. He had been so pleased to observe the friendship budding between the two women, but now…now the truth would hurt Gigi too.

"Or something," he replied bleakly.

"Well, whatever it is, you can work it out with her, right?"

"I don't know." He nearly choked, admitting even that much aloud.

"Of course you can! She likes you now, you know."

Darcy stiffened and looked down.

"C'mon, I know she does! She asked me a ton of questions about you at lunch the other day!"

_And was she filming it?_ He grimaced and turned away from her, hating the suspicion and bitterness that now darkened his thoughts. "I can't talk about this right now."

"But—!"

"Not now," he said firmly.

"Please, William!" she cried, her voice pinched. "Tell me what's wrong, and let me help, if I can. I can't stand to see you hurt like this!"

He shook his head. "I am grateful for your concern, but…". He sighed, unable to resist the pleading in her eyes. "Perhaps at a later date."

"Okay," she said finally, giving him a short but fierce hug, "but I am not giving up on this. I'll send Fitz over here if I have to!"

His mouth twisted as she turned to leave. He had no doubt she would follow through on that threat. "Oh, Gigi? Have you seen…um, anyone today?"

Her eyebrows rose at the cryptic question. "Just the people I usually see when I'm here. Why?"

"Good." At least Wickham hadn't bothered her. "I will talk to you later. Please tell Reynolds that I do not wish to be disturbed for the rest of the day."

Darcy locked the door behind her and then walked to his desk. On his computer screen was the playlist of Lizzie's videos, just as he'd left it. Beside the keyboard was a paper on which he'd jotted information on a few upcoming theater performances. He had been perusing theater schedules intermittently since yesterday morning, when Lizzie had interviewed him for her report, complimented and flirted with him…given him hope.

Now that hope mocked him. The most recent video in her playlist was "Corporate Interview," with two hundred thousand views in little more than a day. Whatever portion of it she had posted had been enough to bring Wickham to him, eager to hurt him once more. But this time, Wickham had not manipulated or hurt someone Darcy loved but had simply told him the truth.

Darcy crumpled the paper viciously and threw it at the trash can. Then he bent over, covered his face with his hands, and groaned.


	2. The face of someone else

_New to the Lizzie Bennet Diaries? Here's a complete playlist: youtube dot com /playlist?list=PL_ePOdU-b3xcDyyzeR5NjxeLEElsqYzn1_

_A rundown of the thumbnails of Lizzie's videos is here: ouhusker7 dot tumblr dot com /post/110393758753_

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**Chapter two: The face of someone else**

_Wednesday, January 23_

Darcy did not sleep that night. After staring at the ceiling for two hours, his mind whirling and aching, he abandoned the effort and went for a long bike ride over what his burning muscles later assured him was every unforgiving hill in San Francisco.

It didn't help. Nothing could dull his pain. Nothing ever dulled the pain of losing Lizzie.

At last, exhausted, he propped his bike against a bench in a deserted park and sat down heavily. His gulping breaths created little transient clouds, and he absently registered that it would be unwise to sit there for long, his clothes soaked through with sweat, exposed to the cold January air.

Exposed. That certainly described him now. Literally and figuratively.

Three hundred thousand. That was the number of people who had watched Lizzie reject him.

Three hundred thousand, and probably more every day. Wickham relished that video, obviously, and had watched it often enough to quote it. Caroline had seen it too, according to Lizzie. What of his other acquaintances? His business associates or investors? His competitors? How many of them were disgusted by his arrogant behavior toward Lizzie, or secretly snickered at his failure?

His parents would have been horrified, primarily at the way he had treated Lizzie, but also at the publicity he had incurred. Excellence, dignity, strength—that, he had been taught from infancy, was what it meant to be a Darcy. Shy by nature, he had learned to carefully guard his privacy, particularly after fate brought him unwanted attention as a young, wealthy, unattached CEO. He knew, now, his tendency to descend from reserve into aloofness and pride, and fought against it, but he would always be a man who held his emotions close to him.

Three hundred thousand. _Three hundred thousand_ people had witnessed the shattering of his heart and his pride. It was enough to make his stomach roil.

And yet, nightmare though it was, the mere fact of exposure paled in comparison to the rest of it. Pain, grief, betrayal—those he had faced before. But betrayal by Lizzie?

Darcy swiped at his nose, then pulled out his phone and navigated to her playlist again. His face tightened painfully as he examined the cold, indisputable evidence of her deceit.

He had found Lizzie filming five times. Five times, he had sat with her in front of her camera. Five times, he had looked into that red light and staring lens, and five times, he had promptly looked away from it, his eyes hungry for Lizzie alone. The camera had hardly existed for him while she was near. Yet exist it definitely had, silently recording five encounters that now stared up at him from the screen.

It wasn't that he had lacked curiosity. He had apologized, when he brought his letter, for interrupting her filming again, and she had said indifferently that she sometimes filmed herself for her thesis. That he had thought plausible enough, considering her field of study. In any case, the freshness of her rejection, the knowledge of how revolting his presence was to her, and the reality that he was likely seeing her for the last time had made his heart too heavy for suspicion.

Then, just two days ago, he had felt confident enough to tease her about her camera, asking as he sat down whether she filmed everything in her life. She had sidestepped his question, asking permission to film their interview for note-taking purposes. Again, her words had been reasonable, and he had naively thought no more of it.

Through it all, he had suspected nothing. Why, in the face of what now seemed obvious warning signs?

Because he had trusted her, that's why.

Lizzie was honest—or at least that's what he had believed until now. She was always breathtakingly alive, her boldness fairly invigorating the air whenever he drew near her. She was never one to say what she thought he wanted to hear; rather, she spoke her mind fearlessly, challenging him on Tolstoy and stereo systems and feminine accomplishments. Then, last fall, she had gone further, challenging his very character, calling him to the carpet for his arrogance and selfishness as no one had ever dared before. Though angry at first, he had come to recognize the justice of her words, and his appreciation for her honesty had only strengthened. It was, in truth, one of his favorite things about her.

Yet she had deliberately deceived and exploited him. How could he reconcile that with the Lizzie he knew? How could he have been so wrong about her?

He had been wrong before, of course. He had believed once that she was as irresistibly attracted to him as he was to her, and he could not have been more wrong. He had thought, lately, that her changed demeanor toward him indicated a changed mind and, in especially hopeful moments, a changed heart, but now…

What if Wickham hadn't told him about the videos? What if instead of confronting Lizzie this afternoon, he had gone to ask her on a date, baring his heart before her and her camera again? Would a second rejection video have been added to her playlist? The very thought set him shaking again. He did not want to think her capable of such cruelty. He wanted to believe her claim that she had not posted that video out of malice or cold-blooded opportunism…but could he? Or had he misjudged her character as badly as he had misjudged her heart?

Darcy shut his eyes against the pain coursing through him and pressed his fist hard against his mouth. This was twice—no, ten times worse than her rejection. Accepting that he was not the person he had believed himself to be was infinitely easier than accepting the same about Lizzie.

He did not know the real Lizzie Bennet. That was the simple, bitter truth.

Time slipped by unnoticed as he sat there in the cold moonlight, lost and agonized and heartbroken.

At length his eyes opened. The city around him was as quiet as it ever would be, its lights dully glowing behind him and muted and blurry across the bay. The emptiness without and within made him shudder.

So did the prospect of a future without Lizzie.

Oh, why had she come to Pemberley? What cruel fate had brought her back into his life to make him hope again, to rekindle and intensify everything he'd felt for her last year? How could he get over Lizzie Bennet a second time when he'd never truly recovered in the first place? And why after all she'd done had he invited her to stay? He'd told her it was so she could finish her independent study, but that was only a pretext. It would have been wiser to let her leave as she had planned instead of delaying the final, inevitable wrench of her absence. Wiser, but…

He could not reverse his decision now, in any case. He had checked her file before leaving his office for the day. Along with a transcript and some standard forms was a letter of recommendation from her mentor. He knew Dr. Gardiner by reputation, enough to assure him Lizzie's visit was legitimate. That being the case, he would not ask her to leave, rendering moot the question of whether he could have brought himself to such an action in the first place.

Reading Dr. Gardiner's letter had brought other conflicting emotions. It was full of exactly the kind of praise he would have expected Lizzie to inspire, but it also referred to her "unique ability to translate theory into practice" as evidenced by her ongoing thesis project in new media. Though not explicitly stated, it was clear her videos were her thesis project.

Darcy shuddered again, aghast at the thought of Lizzie sitting at her computer and coldly dissecting his many communication failures in her thesis.

Enough of these wild, pointless imaginings! His fingers swiftly erased the remaining evidence of his tears.

Then he looked once more at her playlist. He traced absently down his phone's screen, taking in details he had overlooked during the moments of awful discovery that afternoon.

Among her earliest videos, dated shortly after they met, were "Snobby Mr. D-y" and "The Most Awkward Dance Ever." He did not have to watch to know they referred to him. Clearly, he had made a terrible first impression and been completely unaware of doing so.

Others of her videos had curious titles. "Bing Lee and His 500 Teenage Prostitutes?" What on earth did that mean? Or "Single and Happyish"—why "Happyish?" What could "Cats and Chinchillas" be about? The thumbnail was no help, showing only her with Jane. "Lizzie Bennet is in Denial"—about what? And "Swimming with Scissors"—hopefully that was metaphorical, though the thumbnail did show Lydia holding a pair of scissors near Lizzie's face. Who were the "25 D-bags and a Gentleman?" And even in his current state, he couldn't help smiling slightly at "The Green Bean Gelatin Plan," whatever that might be.

Bing looked smilingly at her camera in several of the following thumbnails; given the chronology and different setting, she must have filmed them at Netherfield. What was it she'd said earlier? That he thought her videos were letters of some kind? Darcy wondered suddenly if he should tell Bing about the videos. He would hate to see his friend blindsided as he himself had been…or would telling him only cause him more pain? Darcy shook his head slowly, much too exhausted for mental deliberation just then.

The title "Ethics of Seeing Bing" caught his attention next; he had not noticed it earlier in the shock of actually seeing Bing in her playlist. What could that mean? Had she actually posted a video defending her decision to post footage of him? Darcy scoffed harshly as he looked across the dark waters of the bay. Lizzie had apparently overcome whatever qualms she may have had about showing people without their consent. There was, he noticed, no "Ethics of Seeing Darcy."

He went on grimly, his finger flicking over the screen with the intention of finding the Wickham videos. He was nearly there when the title "Darcy Wickham Drama" caught his eye. Lizzie wore a blue tank top with…a brown newsboy hat and red bowtie? Darcy squinted at the small image, his curiosity piqued despite himself. He had known her for months, even lived in the same house with her for a month, and had never seen her wear such things. Jane sat beside her wearing…swimming goggles? What could they—ah, "Darcy Wickham _Drama._" Had they dramatized something? Did the goggles represent George Wickham and the bowtie…himself? It was strange to think of Lizzie portraying him in that way.

Further thought caused him to doubt his conjecture. He and Wickham had carefully avoided each other; there had been no real drama for Lizzie to report. Unless…the next video was "Wickham Story Time." Darcy suddenly gritted his teeth. Had she and Jane acted out whatever twisted version of the truth Wickham had told them?

Which brought him to the larger question: how involved was Wickham in Lizzie's videos…and her life? He was in the thumbnails of only two videos, but they must have been close for Lizzie to defend him with such vigor last fall. She had not mentioned him since coming to Pemberley, but Darcy had hoped that her friendliness toward Gigi meant she believed his letter.

Now, he didn't know what to think. Had Wickham known at the time what Lizzie was filming, or had she lied to him too? Had she broken off…well, whatever had existed between them, and was his appearance this afternoon merely another instance of his opportunism when it came to hurting Darcy? Or had she ignored his letter, and was she even now reeling from Wickham's betrayal of her secret? Wickham's gloating over him had been fresh and stinging in Darcy's chest when he confronted her, much too raw for him to consider asking for the truth. Now, he might never know.

Darcy scrolled on, noting the reappearance of both the goggles and the bowtie and newsboy hat. His suspicions aroused, he began to notice other recurring items: a shawl and flimsy blue hat, a plaid shirt, a stuffed animal. What did it all mean? And—the thumbnails showed her office at Collins &amp; Collins now—what had she meant when she said Fitz had asked to be in videos that he didn't know existed? How was that possible? He could scarcely conceive that Fitz would knowingly hurt him…yet "A New Buddy" clearly showed him wearing that now-familiar bowtie and hat. Darcy drew a shaky breath and cautioned himself against hasty conclusions.

His own appearances came next, and then "Letter Analysis," a title that had nearly stopped his heart when he first saw it that afternoon. If Lizzie had exposed Gigi as well as himself, he would…but reason had intruded before he could decide how to respond. If Lizzie had publicized what Gigi had suffered, Wickham would have told him—probably would have opened the conversation with it. George Wickham knew better than anyone that the surest way to hurt him was to hurt Gigi. No, bleak as that reasoning was, Darcy was not worried for his sister's secret…though he did fairly itch to watch that video.

Caroline unexpectedly at Collins &amp; Collins, Lizzie's return home, an odd image of her with her fingers in her ears, himself and then Bing in Lizzie's office at Pemberley Digital, and Darcy arrived at the end. He scrolled back up, putting more details together. Only a handful of the thumbnails showed Lizzie alone, he noticed. The others showed her with her sisters or friends but, oddly, only once with someone he did not recognize, a dark-haired woman who had apparently come for "Party Time." He paused often to gaze at Lizzie's beautiful, expressive face. At times, she smiled naturally at the camera, but more often than not she wore curious expressions that made him wonder what she could be thinking or saying.

That described her videos in a nutshell, he realized. They symbolized not only her duplicity but also just how little he knew about her. Her playlist offered a tiny glimpse into her life, and it was…it was tantalizing.

He wanted to know Lizzie Bennet. Darcy gasped as the desire crystalized within him.

He wanted to know more than her intelligence and spirit that had first drawn him to her, more than whatever snippets of her life and thoughts were included in her videos.

He wanted to know her, all of her.

The realization terrified him, and he set down his phone quickly, as if burned by it. What was wrong with him? How could he even think such a thing? Had he lost all objectivity where she was concerned? She had willfully deceived him, for goodness' sake! The wisest, the _only_ course for him was to eradicate her from his heart once for all. This impulse to do the opposite was merely the result of his current exhaustion and overwrought emotions.

It was not, could not, _would_ not be more.

Darcy rose as quickly as his stiffened muscles would allow. He had sat absorbed in thought for too long, and now he was shivering and irrational. He swung onto his bike and set off, fighting his aching legs for his usual rapid pedaling tempo. The city awakened around him as he rode, and the eastern sky began to lighten as he reached Pemberley.

Shower and shave in the gym. Change into the spare clothes he kept in his office in case of an emergency or unexpected all-nighter. Grab a cup of coffee when even the hot shower failed to completely warm him. Few of his employees were there this early, so he had only those methodical tasks to distract him from his heart's latest folly.

Yet as he stood before the window in his office, deftly tying a Windsor knot as he looked out over the city, he doubted that any amount of distraction or repression would help. The desire remained in him, steadfast and visceral.

He wanted to know Lizzie Bennet.

Darcy finished the knot without conscious thought and leaned his forehead against the cool glass in despair. Why, _why_ couldn't he hate her? Would he never be free of this accursed longing for a woman who clearly cared nothing for him?

Minutes slipped by, and he was beginning to rouse himself with thoughts of work when a knock sounded at his door.

"Who is it?"

"It…it's Lizzie."

His gaze snapped to the door, and he stared at it for long moments, motionless. His heart, not having assimilated the fact that all hope was gone, stubbornly leapt with the knowledge that she was, at last, seeking him out. But why now? Had she changed her mind and decided to leave after all?

He shook himself and crossed the room, belatedly conscious that she would see the evidence of his sleepless night in his face. He opened the door, and there she was before him. Her night had been painful too, from the look of it. She was pale, exhausted, wary…breathtaking.

"Here," she said, presenting him a folded handkerchief. "I, um, washed it."

"Ah. Thank you."

"No, I—." She took a deep breath and extended her hand again. "Will you read this? Please?"

It was an envelope with his name printed neatly on the front.

Lizzie had written him a letter. Even without knowing its contents, the significance and familiarity of the letter made his chest ache.

His eyes were burning, holding hers as he opened his hand. "Yes," he said quietly.

Lizzie handed him the letter, ducked her head, and hurried away.

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_Please do comment—I'd love to hear what you think of the story so far! Thanks to those who commented on chapter 1._


	3. Face the wind alone

_Backtracking a little to catch up with Lizzie. Self-flagellation ahead._

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**Chapter three: Face the wind alone**

_Tuesday, January 22_

Lizzie had never marathoned her videos. Sure, she'd rewatched a few now and then, especially when she was digesting Darcy's letter, but never very many at once. Staring at her own face for hours seemed like it would be weird, not to mention literally narcissistic.

But Darcy knew about her videos now, and Lizzie knew she had to give him permission to watch them. He deserved to be able to see what she had done. She resolutely wrote that permission in her letter to him, then gripped her pen in panic. Darcy, the guy who had turned her worldview on its head and who now made her heart flip every time she saw him, could now see every little embarrassing detail of her life during the last nine months…not to mention every huge ethical failure.

Lizzie marathoned her videos then and there, trying to imagine what he would think.

It wasn't pretty. There had been no filter when she talked about Darcy. He had insulted her once, privately to his best friend, and in return she had insulted him unrelentingly to an internet's worth of strangers.

It became a game after a while, a demoralizing game of guessing how much he could take before he became too disgusted to watch any more. Maybe he would stop when she mocked his name before even meeting him. Maybe he would stop when she snarked that he probably had to pay people to be his friends, or when she gushed that Wickham proved there was no excuse for a guy like him. And if he made it to the Netherfield videos—which she seriously doubted—well, there was no way he would sit through that barrage of insults.

Maybe he would skip ahead to the videos with Wickham (she full-body shuddered to think he might watch as she ogled and lost her head over that jerk's body) or Fitz.

Ultimately, it didn't matter how few or many videos he watched. Well, it did matter—the more she watched, the more she hoped he wouldn't be interested enough to watch _any_ of them—but the outcome would be the same. Any feelings he might still have for her would die when he saw what she was really like.

That hurt a lot more than she was willing to admit.

And who was she, really? Lizzie snorted when she remembered thinking that watching her videos would be narcissistic. She was looking at her reflection all right, like the mythical Narcissus, but she was in no danger of falling in love with it. Instead, she saw a woman who dismissed anyone who disagreed with her, who valued being witty over being fair to the people she portrayed, who made snap judgments and imagined herself clear-sighted. Lydia—Lydia, of all people!—had said it best. "Rule #1 about Lizzie's diaries: they're Lizzie's diaries. She sees what she wants to see."

Lizzie knew she had improved in some of those areas during the last few months. She always tried to learn from her mistakes. But sometimes she didn't learn enough.

There had been red flags all along, moments that should have made her rethink what she was saying and showing in her videos. They screamed out at her as she watched. Most cringe-inducing were the times when someone found her videos.

Caroline caught her filming, having already found her videos by chance, and Lizzie was horrified and ready to quit vlogging. In the end, she continued—but did she become more discreet, knowing that Bing or Darcy could stumble upon her videos just as easily? No.

She spent a whole video debating the ethics of posting footage of Bing, when doing so meant deceiving him and risking that he'd get attention from creepy strangers. She knew he had the right to be angry over what she was doing, but did she conclude that his privacy was more important than posting cute footage that would please her viewers? No.

Ricky didn't know about her videos when he ran into her at VidCon. Yes, she realized, he was the first person she'd shown without permission, but she'd despised him so much that the ethical question never occurred to her. When he later found her videos, did she realize there would be other days of reckoning? That others she insulted or secretly included in her videos might not react as mildly as Ricky had? No.

When Fitz asked to be in her videos, she made him promise not to watch her earlier videos or tell Darcy about them. Did she speak more kindly after that, knowing that the friends and family of the people in her videos—Ricky's fiancée or Darcy's sister or Bing's parents or God only knew who else—could be hurt by what she said? No.

Her own parents still didn't know about the videos. Her dad would probably think it a good joke, but her mom? Lizzie always imagined a shrill, overly dramatic reaction to her videos, but had she ever considered that her mom might actually be hurt by her daughter's one-sided portrayal of her? No.

"I'm not worried at all about people discovering my videos,"she'd told her viewers after returning from Netherfield. And that was the truth. She hadn't worried, but not because she made responsible choices about what and who she put in her videos. No, she wasn't worried because Caroline would keep Bing ignorant of them, and because she couldn't care less what Ricky might feel about being mocked in a public forum by an old classmate.

"I'm not worried at all about people discovering my videos." She had been that shameless and arrogant and short-sighted.

Lizzie was curled up on the loveseat when Darcy made his entrance, impatient and impassioned, with no idea what awaited him. He looked at her camera like a deer in the headlights. After registering its presence, he looked away from it and toward her.

Her tears came then, soaking his handkerchief anew. No matter how badly he had expressed himself, he deserved better than this. He deserved a compassionate rejection instead of a scathing one. He deserved never to hear the name Wickham again, not to have it thrown in his face like some kind of trump card. He deserved a woman with the decency to conceal, not publicize, his ruined expectations. He deserved to be able to grieve and heal after her rejection, not for his worst enemy to taunt him with it.

He deserved better because of simple human kindness…because he was a better man than she could have imagined…but most of all because he'd trusted her.

"I could not believe that _you_…," he'd said this afternoon, his voice momentarily too ragged to continue. He had no reason to trust her, not after she'd rejected and falsely accused him, but he still thought well enough of her that he couldn't believe what she'd done.

Disbelief…precarious restraint…fury…bitterness…pain. They had radiated from him this afternoon, and they were unmistakable in the video she now watched. Worst of all was his pain. His trust in her had given her the power to wound him terribly, and she had. "Why would you do this?"—would she ever forget his voice as he asked that unanswerable and damning question?

Her guilt didn't stop with episode 60. He was in her next video too, delivering his letter and apologizing for interrupting her filming again. Her reply—that she sometimes filmed herself for her thesis—was technically true but a lie in every way that mattered. She had lied to spare him the additional pain of her videos…but also because she was too cowardly to own up to what she'd done and face the consequences.

Darcy twice finding her filming had been yet another red flag about the moral lines she was crossing with her videos, but had she paid attention to it? Not really. Oh sure, she had mostly learned her lesson about insulting people on camera before she had all the facts. But beyond that? Not only had she posted the videos of him, but the videos after that showed her invading his privacy again, revealing the contents of his letter piece by piece. She told her viewers everything, eventually, except what he wrote about Gigi. At least she'd had the sense to keep quiet about that.

Would he skip ahead and watch any of her later videos? She felt sure he would watch the video titled "Letter Analysis" if he noticed it in her playlist. What would he think if he heard her admit "it's like I don't know myself anymore" after reading his letter? Would he be curious about why Caroline appeared in her videos again and watch those? Lizzie couldn't imagine what he would think of Caroline's strange behavior. She almost hoped he would watch "Party Time" and see that she had stood up to Wickham for him…but a video with that title probably wouldn't interest him.

Lizzie stopped a couple videos later and switched back to her playlist. Watching more was suddenly unbearable, and she stared dully at the screen, arms wrapped protectively around her middle.

Would Darcy watch the Pemberley videos?

She'd come to San Francisco dreading the awkwardness of seeing him again. She hadn't been sure what to put in her videos, but he definitely wasn't an option. She'd satisfied her viewers' curiosity about him once, and that was enough. But then his impeccable timing brought him to her office twice while she was filming, and she asked him in another time for a corporate interview. And the awkwardness turned into something incredible and meaningful. And when the time came to piece together a video and the most compelling footage always centered on him…well, he was now in three more videos. She knew every time she turned on her camera in her office that she risked discovery. She knew during every second of editing and uploading that she should post videos of sightseeing or costume theater of new people she met—anything but footage of him. But the freak coincidence of being assigned to his company made his presence in her videos feel inevitable. It felt right to let him speak for himself after painting him as horrible for so long. And…and she _wanted_ him to be in her videos.

But Darcy would not see that, even if by some chance he did watch the Pemberley videos. His trust in her shattered, he would see something quite different.

Lizzie wasn't stupid. She knew how it looked. The video of her rejecting him had more views than all but her first few videos, and her view counts had jumped again after coming to Pemberley Digital. Showing him got her more views in a couple days than most of her videos got in a month. She had many loyal viewers, more than she had ever dreamed, but Darcy was clearly her vlog's biggest draw. It was a bit insulting, actually, but that was the least of her worries right now.

Darcy knew. He had to know. He'd looked through her playlist and mentioned the view count on the rejection video, and he was too analytical to miss such an obvious pattern. No wonder he had asked this afternoon if she had really come to Pemberley for independent study. She looked like the worst kind of opportunist, one brazen and heartless enough to stalk him to his own company and then tease and flirt with him, hoping to get even more sensational footage.

_That_ was what he would see when he looked at her now.

Lizzie shuddered and wiped her face with a handkerchief too saturated to do any good. Then she picked up her pen again.

%%%

_Next chapter...Darcy reads the letter. I love getting feedback—thanks to those who have left comments already!_


	4. Who can hold a memory?

**Chapter four: Who can hold a memory?**

_Wednesday, January 23_

Darcy watched Lizzie round the corner, then closed and locked his office door. He leaned back against it for long moments, staring at the envelope in his hand, nervous and speculating what it might contain. Then, sinking down on a nearby couch, he opened it and began to read.

_Darcy —_

_I didn't have good answers for the questions you asked this afternoon. I was upset and nervous and probably didn't make any sense. I'm not sure I'll do any better now, but you deserve a better explanation and apology, so I'm going to try._

_First, about your friends. Maybe you've already asked them by now, but I'll tell you just in case. At Netherfield, Bing came in while Jane was filming a video letter for Charlotte, and I posted the footage. He was in few more videos after that and always thought I was filming a letter for Charlotte. Recently, he found me filming at Pemberley and figured out it wasn't really for Charlotte. I don't know if he has found my videos yet._

_Fitz found me filming at Collins &amp; Collins and impulsively asked to be in my videos. I made him promise not to watch my earlier videos or tell you about them, and he obviously kept his word._

_Neither of them knew what I was doing. Please believe that! You can see for yourself: Bing was in #28, 29, 31, 34, and 79, and Fitz was in #56 and 58. You can watch them if you want. That goes for any of my videos. I am ashamed that you respected my privacy enough to not watch them, when I showed no respect for your privacy._

_After writing that, I rewatched my videos, trying to imagine what you would think. They made me cringe. Ranting about you made me feel so freaking clever, and my videos made it easy to insult you as much as I wanted. Actually, it was more than insults. I defamed you, eagerly and repeatedly._

_I also posted video of you. That was partly because I couldn't process what had happened and partly for my viewers. They always liked you, no matter how many awful things I said, and I knew they'd never forgive me if I didn't let them see you. I'm not blaming them, though. Marathoning my videos helped me see what I did. I got obsessed with telling __my__ story. I tried to put people in neat little boxes, painting pictures of them that showed only my limited perspective. Telling my story became more important than Bing's privacy or your privacy or any of the other ethical lines I crossed. I didn't care how you would feel about everyone seeing that video, or how you might find out about it. That was incredibly selfish of me._

_I just reread this and am ashamed again. Last fall, I rejected you without showing you any consideration or understanding, and you wrote a letter that made me see how I had misjudged you. Now I've hurt you again, but I can't write you a letter like that. I know that apologies after getting caught seem insincere and can't fix anything, but…I am deeply sorry, Darcy. For everything._

_Sincerely,_

_Lizzie Bennet_

Darcy's eyes flew over her words at first, eager to take in everything at once. Her defense of his friends he quickly accepted. Bing's easy credulity and Fitz's friendly impulsiveness were too much in character to be doubted. It was his first moment of relief since this nightmare had begun, and he regretted having doubted them at all.

Lizzie did not, he noticed, offer any defense of Caroline.

The rest of the letter he read repeatedly, examining each word, ready at one moment to accept her confessions but sickened by them again in the next moment. The defamation he knew about already. Wickham had described it vividly yesterday, complete with painful quotes. It still boggled his mind that her loathing for him could have carried her so far. And her reason for posting footage of him without his knowledge or consent? She had determined that her viewers should despise him as she did, and when they hesitated to think as she dictated, she seized the opportunity to show him at his arrogant, insulting worst, thus neatly proving her point. That, in any case, was how he interpreted her explanation, and it was intolerable.

Outrageous.

Unjust.

It was "incredibly selfish." Darcy read her words again and softened despite himself.

Lizzie regretted what she had done. She had twice tried to apologize yesterday, but he had cut her off. Now she had written him this letter. Her purpose in writing was, it seemed, to ensure the preservation of his two closest friendships. Nearly half the letter was dedicated to explaining and pleading on behalf of others, but she made no attempt to justify herself. Instead, she wrote with…well, he could not say honesty, because there was much he could not verify, but at least with ruthless transparency.

And with shame. Shame that struck him more forcefully with each reading. He knew well the gnawing helplessness of shame, having suffered it every time he recalled his behavior toward her that day at Collins &amp; Collins. Now it seemed she suffered the same, regarding him. The thought sat ill with him.

Her tone had changed since they spoke yesterday. Then she had been strained and distressed; now she was simply, wretchedly defeated. He could read between the lines of her last paragraph. His letter had, remarkably, improved her opinion and helped her understand him, but she did not expect her letter to do the same. She apologized, but without hope that he would believe or forgive her.

_Could_ he forgive her?

The thought emptied the air from Darcy's lungs. He rose, agitated, and began to pace the floor.

How could he answer such a question? In practice, clearly, he could forgive her. The last twenty-four hours had shown that however justified his anger toward her, he was incapable of sustaining it. He was confident he could conceal his turmoil and treat her with professional goodwill during the remainder of her visit.

But to truly, fully forgive her? That meant more than merely the absence of ill-treatment, more than an impulse, however strong, to know her. True forgiveness would require the unity and commitment of his heart, will, and mind. Could he interact with her without dwelling internally on the record of wrongs she had committed against him? Could he see her as something more than the woman who had deceived him? For that matter, could he be certain that she did not deceive him still, that she was not faking her contrition in order to get his guard down and exploit him further? Thinking such a thing about her made him recoil instinctively, but he would be foolish to ignore such a possibility.

He was still mulling those questions some time later when his phone beeped. It was a reminder of his meeting in ten minutes with the Domino launch team. He looked through the rest of the day's schedule and groaned. It would be hours before he had an opportunity to think of Lizzie without distraction, or to take a desperately needed nap.

Nevertheless, he had responsibilities to fulfill, and he would not shirk them. Darcy shrugged on his suit jacket, folded Lizzie's letter and tucked it into his inner pocket, and faced the day.

%%%

It had been unwise, Darcy came to realize, to keep Lizzie's letter in his suit pocket. He would have thought of her frequently in any case, but the presence of that paper against his chest made it nigh impossible to concentrate on anything else. By mid-morning, he was running behind schedule, and his last meeting finally ended an hour and a half after he had anticipated. After that, thirty minutes in one of Pemberley's napping pods was absolutely necessary to avoid endangering himself and others on the road.

Finally, he was in his car, fighting traffic. Normally, he would use that time to make phone calls or listen to industry-related podcasts, but today his thoughts gravitated to Lizzie and her letter.

He was no nearer a resolution now than he had been earlier. It had all broken upon him so suddenly, so recently, that he was still processing the magnitude of what she had done. In fact, when he had awakened from his nap, he had felt an overwhelming relief at first, thinking it had all been a horrendous dream. Then he had reached for his jacket, and the crackle of paper in its pocket had brought a more profound misery than ever. He had read her letter again as he lay there, and now as he drove, he thought of the offer she had made.

Lizzie had given him permission to watch her videos. It was a completely unexpected gesture, and a meaningful one. Oh, he saw it for what it was. Her letter made it clear that she was driven by guilt and a sense of fairness. He knew very well that she was not intentionally inviting him into her world. Still, though, she would allow him to watch—even appeared to _expect_ him to watch, to the point of imagining his reactions.

That being the case, why did he hesitate? Mere hours ago, he had looked at her playlist with acute curiosity…even yearning. Now that he had permission to watch, however, he could not bring himself to begin.

Was it wise to watch her videos now, when he was still reeling from the knowledge of their very existence? Her words—"I defamed you, eagerly and repeatedly"—were blunt and unsparing. Last fall, he had faced her anger for only a few minutes, but it had upended his world and created wounds that, while ultimately beneficial, had not yet fully healed. What would it do to him to hear her enumerate, in video after video, her reasons for hating him? Could any good possibly come from subjecting himself to such pain?

For that matter, could any good whatsoever come from watching? If he watched, he would do so to learn about and better understand Lizzie, but to what end? He could not know if other nasty surprises awaited him. And even if she had come to like him—and he was very far from thinking that, now—he would not enter into a relationship with a woman he could not trust. Nothing was worth that pain.

And yet…and yet he wanted to watch. It was as simple and illogical as that.

Darcy reached home at last, energy completely spent and irritation rising at his state of indecision. Supper forgotten, he completed the minimum of preparations before collapsing into his bed. He needed sleep. He needed peace.

%%%

_Thursday, January 24_

Sleep came at last that night; peace did not. There was no disorientation when he woke this time. Consciousness brought with it the same turmoil that had dogged him the day before.

What should he do about Lizzie's letter?

Darcy groaned and rolled over, scrubbing his hands over his face. A glance told him his alarm would not sound for a couple hours. He turned on the lamp, slipped on his glasses, and leaned against the headboard, phone in hand, to peruse her playlist once more.

In the end, it was bleak practicality that decided him. He was already tormented over this, with little prospect of relief. The possibility of incurring more pain hardly mattered at this point. He would watch one or two of her videos and then decide about the others.

"Yeah, I Know." That was the title she had given to the video in which he brought his letter. After Wickham's departure two days ago, Darcy had watched part of that video, enough at the beginning to see that Lizzie was conscious of her audience and enough in the middle to see that she had included the footage of him.

He watched it in full now.

Charlotte came to tease her for missing the signs of his interest. His efforts to seek her out, to dance or discuss her favorite Russian novel with her—Charlotte taxed her with all of them, and Lizzie alternated between downplaying the meaning of his actions and shooting defensive glances at the camera.

"The virtues of reading Russian literature are far outweighed by the fact that he disinherited George. Oh yeah—and he broke up Bing and Jane!"

"You don't even like George anymore."

Darcy's eyebrows flew upward when she didn't contradict Charlotte's assertion. Lizzie had only ever _liked_ George Wickham, and even that had ended before he saw her at Collins &amp; Collins? That was less fearful than any of the possibilities that had haunted him these past months.

"I have a hundred more reasons to dislike Darcy than he has to like me."

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about him liking you much longer after _that_. You weren't exactly easy on him."

"Yeah…and you heard him list all the reasons he shouldn't be in a relationship with someone like me. It won't take long for those feelings to drive away anything he actually felt for me."

"And if not, you could always tell him to watch the videos." Charlotte tilted her head teasingly, but Lizzie was in no mood for it.

"Are you kidding? He could sue me for some of the stuff I've said about him—not that it's untrue!" Lizzie eyed the camera uncertainly. "He's a really successful businessman. Really successful businessmen sue people a lot, or so I'm told. G-, I am so screwed if he ever finds these!"

"Yeah…too bad we don't know any lawyers."

He entered then, having heard only Charlotte's last words and not suspecting they related to him. Charlotte left them, and he gingerly seated himself beside Lizzie. Then he noticed the camera.

"You're filming again. I apologize—I hope I have not interrupted anything important?"

Lizzie bit her lip, her gaze darting from him to the camera…and stammered out a lie.

Darcy replayed the scene, then pressed pause as she began to speak. His breathing became labored as he took in her expression, which he had missed at the time in his preoccupation with the camera. Now he could see her uneasiness and guilt. They were written all over her face, even as she lied. So was her fear.

That was why she'd lied to him. She feared his revenge. Worse yet, her fear was appallingly reasonable from her perspective. If, as she thought then, he had destroyed her sister's happiness and Wickham's future without cause, why would he hesitate to destroy hers?

Lizzie had believed he would hurt her in retaliation. The thought tore at his heart.

Was she afraid of him now? His eyes slid shut as he recalled her agitation when he confronted her over her videos, how she had flinched away from his anger. His accusations must have been her nightmare come to life. Thank goodness he had given in to his impulse to allow her to stay at Pemberley! The thought of her fleeing from him, fearing his reaction, waiting at home in dread of a career-wrecking lawsuit…

He shook himself. It did not bear imagining. Lizzie had agreed to stay, so she must have realized she had nothing to fear from him. He did wonder that she had come to Pemberley at all, even going so far as to film him again. She must have known that made it more likely he would discover her videos.

Darcy frowned thoughtfully. Clearly, there was much he did not understand about Lizzie Bennet. Which returned him to his earlier question: should he take advantage of her invitation to watch her videos?

This time, there was no indecision or hesitation. Darcy looked through his schedule for the day and promptly sent emails arranging to remotely attend two essential meetings that morning and postponing the rest.

His afternoon and evening were now free. He had eighty more videos to watch.

%%%

_Thanks for reading—please do leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts as we transition to the next phase of the story._


	5. Help me to believe in you

**Chapter five: Help me to believe in you**

_Thursday, January 24_

"Forget about Mom, Jane—you and I are going to Netherfield!"

Darcy stopped the video and leaned back in his chair. He had been watching Lizzie's videos for almost two hours, and he needed time to process what he had seen. That, and he dreaded the next set of videos. Her initial anger toward him seemed to have cooled—she had hardly even mentioned him in her last what, six or seven videos?—but he suspected that would not last when she was living in the same house with him.

What had he learned so far?

Well, for one, that Lizzie was as refreshing and enthralling on camera as she was in person. Her introduction of her "It is a truth universally acknowledged…" shirt, her logic when concluding that only 2% of rich, single men were actually available, her description of herself as the "dreaded middle child"—it was carefree and funny and utterly charming. When she donned a hat and shawl to impersonate her mother, he actually chuckled in amazement—he had guessed correctly about her props! She had a knack for mimicry that, he discovered a few videos later, was not so charming when he was her target. Still, he found himself smiling often as he watched, admiring her determination to better the world through her work, enjoying her banter with Charlotte over childhood Halloween costumes and refrigerator boxes, and warmed by her love for Jane that led her to eat that revolting-looking green bean gelatin.

Yes, the Lizzie in these videos was every bit the woman he had fallen for…yet she troubled him as well. Perhaps he was just sensitive from the fresh shock of exposure himself, but he was struck by her harsh descriptions of the people in her life. Her criticism of himself hurt, certainly, but he expected that. But he was not her only target—she spoke harshly of her mother and Lydia as well. He could not imagine saying such things about his own sister, especially in a public forum. Lydia seemed mostly unperturbed by it, though, and appeared in the videos willingly.

Darcy shook himself and walked to the kitchen for fresh coffee. He was only a third of the way through the videos, so it was too soon to draw any conclusions. And in any case he could hardly censure Lizzie for holding opinions that matched his own at the time.

He contemplated his first encounter with Lizzie while he waited for the water to heat. It had been beyond disastrous. He had been defensive at first while watching "Snobby Mr. D-y." She had decided, based on a three-minute dance, that he was "grotesque" and "nauseating," that his serious nature meant he lacked all humor, that inheriting a fortune automatically made him lazy and frivolous and incapable of hard work. That was completely unfair!

The following video made the pieces begin to fall in place in his mind.

"Decent enough." He had been confused when Lizzie leveled those words at him at Collins &amp; Collins last fall. She had made only a slight impression on him at first, so he had forgotten just how terse he had been as they danced. And he had entirely forgotten the rude comment he had made about her to Bing. How could he have been so stupidly blind?

Once back in the den, he backtracked to that video and watched the end again, wincing at Lizzie's every expression, every unfinished sentence. She even addressed him directly: "Well, Mr. Darcy, I hope it's not too lonely on that pedestal you've put yourself on. It's safe to say I like you even less than you like me." He had not realized at first how unusual it was for her to address anyone other than Charlotte or her viewers through her camera. Knowing that now only underscored how his words had angered and…and hurt her.

Darcy's mouth tightened regretfully. On to Netherfield, then.

Caroline appeared first, already aware of Lizzie's videos and eager to keep him and Bing from finding them. Then Bing himself, filming a letter to Charlotte with Jane just as Lizzie had said. At Netherfield, Darcy had usually found Bing and Jane's conversations tediously bland and saccharine, but now…now he could see the signs of true tenderness in Jane's face, and more happiness in Bing's than he had seen in months. He was unsure what to think—he could not forget the sight of Jane and that man at Bing's birthday party—but the conviction grew that he had been wrong somehow.

"Ethics of Seeing Bing." Darcy took a deep breath when the title appeared on his screen, and tamped down the urge to skip ahead. He did not want to watch this video. Lizzie had obviously decided it was acceptable to post footage of people without their consent, and he did not think he could sit there and calmly listen as she attempted to rationalize that decision.

_Don't overreact,_ he told himself firmly. _She has admitted she was wrong._

The video surprised him. Lizzie didn't casually justify showing Bing; rather, she was conflicted as to whether she'd done the right thing, and the camera captured her dilemma and her decision-making process. The first part of the video could easily have ended in telling her viewers that she had decided to remove the footage of Bing. It was Caroline who planted the idea that deception was justified because she was reporting a story. While he did not agree with Lizzie's decision to accept that logic, Darcy could understand its appeal for her. Most people, if they chose to vlog, would produce a vanity project or mind-numbing drivel, but not Lizzie. She was already telling a story, whether or not she realized it at the time.

It was a…compelling story, to use Caroline's word. It was a story that resonated with tens of thousands of people, judging by the consistently high view counts. But it was also a story that featured himself as the villain. Everything he did confirmed that role, or was made to do so.

He had brought much of it on himself. Ever creative, Lizzie in the next video turned his description of an accomplished woman into a game, implying that he viewed himself as a prize to be won only by a nonexistent paragon. Add that piece of arrogance to his earlier remark that she was "decent enough," and it was no wonder that she misinterpreted his interest and believed that he looked at her only to criticize.

Yes, as he had long since concluded, he had earned Lizzie's poor opinion last fall. Still, her indictments of his character made him flinch:

"It's like he's purposely dooming himself to be alone for life."

"Darcy's still unpleasant, disagreeable, and full of himself."

"This is not a man with a lot of friends, is it?"

"Vanity and pride, the Darcy family crest. It's probably in bronze over his bed."

"Of course he has a short temper! It goes along with his stuck-upness and unforgiving personality."

She spoke harshest when recounting their conversation when she and Caroline had taken a turn around the room. He had attempted to flirt with her that day, lamely and stiffly to be sure. Somehow, his attempts had sent her into a rage that climaxed in professing her hatred for him.

Lizzie had _hated_ him. Hated him more than she'd ever hated anyone. He wasn't really surprised—"you're the last man in the world I could ever fall in love with" had been unequivocal enough—but hearing the words was still terrible. Darcy knew hatred. He had felt it toward only one person in his life. That Lizzie felt toward him then what he felt toward George Wickham…the thought sent an icy shaft through his heart. Worse yet, hating him gave her pleasure. That was not speculation on his part—she explicitly said so. He could not fathom that kind of hatred.

Darcy stopped the video and rubbed his hands over his eyes. How much more of this could he take? This was only the beginning, after all. At this point, he had not advised Bing against Jane, and Wickham hadn't yet lied to her. He had earned Lizzie's hatred all on his own.

He had been deceiving himself, Darcy realized. He wasn't just watching Lizzie's videos to discover who she really was, as he had thought. He was also watching because he wanted to learn what she thought of him. He needed to find out whether, in spite of everything, there was any chance they could work their way through this. How impossible that seemed now! Lizzie had hated him with breathtaking thoroughness. Surely it was pure delusion to think she could change toward him so fundamentally.

Should he give up, then? Stop watching, leave her in peace to finish her analysis of Pemberley Digital, then let her walk away from him for good?

Darcy shook his head ruefully. He knew very well that he would not be able to stop watching now, however masochistic or foolish that revealed him to be. And besides…he picked up her letter again, absorbing her words for what seemed the hundredth time.

"I rewatched my videos…they made me cringe."

"Ranting about you made me feel so freaking clever."

"I tried to put people in neat little boxes, painting pictures of them that showed only my limited perspective."

"I rejected you without showing you any consideration or understanding, and you wrote a letter that made me see how I had misjudged you."

"I am deeply sorry, Darcy. For everything."

The contrast between videos and letter was stark. Darcy ran his fingertips slowly over her words, as if trying to make their meaning more tangible. Then he took a deep breath, raised his chin, and restarted the videos.

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_Thoughts on this chapter, or the story so far? Leave a review—I respond to each one (if you're signed in). Thanks for the thoughtful reviews so far!_


	6. Look at me once more

_Side note…I debated over how Darcy would mentally refer to Ricky Collins. "Ricky" is too familiar, but I doubt Darcy would dignify him with a "Mr." in his thoughts. He dislikes him too much—remember his murderous expression in the postscript photos? So I settled on "Collins." I hope that's not too jarring…_

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**Chapter six: Look at me once more**

_Thursday, January 24_

Darcy sat transfixed as Lizzie, chin wobbling and close to tears, watched her best friend walk out of her life. He hadn't seen this coming.

When Collins had reappeared, plainly pitching his company to Lizzie, Darcy had pulled a face but also started putting the pieces together. The titles a few videos hence told the story, or so he'd thought. "The Insistent Proposal" and "Proposal Fallout," the former thumbnail showing Lizzie with Collins, had bewildered him when he first saw her playlist. He had mostly ignored the man's continual prating while evaluating Collins &amp; Collins, but he distinctly recalled hearing of a fiancée and reflecting that _de gustibus non est disputandum_. A business proposal made better sense. Lizzie would decline the job, which Collins would then offer to Charlotte. The latter would be in "Your Pitch Needs Work," which showed the two together, and Darcy had smiled at the thought of Lizzie indulging in snark while titling that video. "Friends Forever," whose thumbnail showed the women embracing, would be Charlotte's last video before leaving, and the emotions would carry over into "Missing Charlotte."

The possibility of a quarrel had not occurred to him. He had seen nothing in Lizzie during his final weeks at Netherfield that would indicate an estrangement from her best friend. She had made an extended visit to Charlotte soon afterward, as he well knew, and he had noticed no friction between them then. Although, come to think of it, he did recall Lizzie telling him she had been wrong about her friend and was proud of her accomplishments at Collins &amp; Collins.

Even knowing they had since reconciled, it was still difficult for him to witness Lizzie's pain.

Oddly, he didn't resent Charlotte's role in hurting Lizzie. He understood her decision. Financial aspect aside, partnership at Collins &amp; Collins was a valuable foot in the door, and her work ethic and common-sense innovations had the potential to transform the company. The favorable report he and Fitz had made had been based more on the solid business plan she had developed than on the projects Collins had originally pitched to Catherine de Bourgh. Darcy had the benefit of hindsight, of course, but he could see the wisdom in her accepting the job.

His head might agree with Charlotte, but Lizzie's stance resonated with his heart. Yes, as Charlotte pointed out, Lizzie resisted her decision partly for selfish reasons, but her opposition clearly transcended the merely selfish. Lizzie believed more passionately in Charlotte's talents and future than in her own, something he'd noticed in their previous career-centric videos, and she would be less than herself if she did not fight for her best friend's future.

This was not the first time Darcy found himself torn between their opposing perspectives. Earlier, the two had clashed when Lizzie insulted Collins, even knowing he had found her vlog."You're going to risk that he's never going to see this?" Charlotte had reasoned. "The internet is forever, and you just called him an idiot on it."

Lizzie argued that she'd already pointed out Collins' ignorance to his face. "Still, you don't have to antagonize him," Charlotte said, to which Lizzie retorted, "Why not? He antagonizes me!"

Every instinct Darcy had agreed with Charlotte. As the child of a CEO and a CFO, discretion had been drilled into him since childhood, and now as a CEO he habitually took care what he put in writing or any other form of permanent documentation. His appearances before Lizzie's camera were an exception in that regard. Much as he inclined toward Charlotte's position, though, he had to admire Lizzie's refusal to put on a false, happy, agreeable front. She was by nature outspoken and unafraid of confrontation—qualities that attracted him as much now as ever.

Darcy was not blind to the parallels between Lizzie's public disparagement of Collins and himself.

But why record her fight with Charlotte? It was deeply personal, poignant, so unlike her previous videos. Charlotte had not wanted it filmed, but Lizzie had insisted, turning on her camera in the middle of their argument. Why? Was it from some compulsion to film everything in her life? Based only on his own experience, he might have believed that, but after watching and analyzing several hours of her videos, he knew it was not that simple.

He replayed the video, his chin resting thoughtfully on his palm. At first, Lizzie seemed to think that filming would change Charlotte's mind, as if her viewers' disapproval would have influence that her own did not. It was an attempt to forcibly recall Charlotte to her priorities, or at least to what Lizzie believed her priorities to be. She certainly fought the reality that Charlotte did not fit into her "neat little box," as she'd put it, that Charlotte would act differently than she herself would.

Yet as the video continued, he realized there was more to her insistence on filming than that. "I'm right here," Charlotte protested when Lizzie stormed to the viewers that she was making a stupid choice. Her reply: "But you're not listening to me, and at least they will."

Lizzie's viewers were important to her.

They had to be, of course—the videos were her thesis project, after all. But she did not value them merely as statistics or as proof of her popularity. She did not know the meaning of the word analytics, as a previous video had shown. Nor was she a egotist, valuing her audience only for their ears. Rather, she had a…a deep emotional connection with them. Darcy snorted aloud when he realized he was quoting from Collins. Yet for all the man's pomposity, his description fit. Lizzie felt that her viewers understood her, that they cared for her, that they were on her side. She earned that rapport by sharing everyday life with them—whether the day brought laughter, outrage, or a rupture with her best friend.

It was, Darcy thought, a costly connection. Yet Lizzie seemed to thrive in it.

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_She doesn't like him anymore. She didn't know any better, _Darcy reminded himself frequently during the following videos. Even so, it was difficult to keep his disgust and pain at bay when Lizzie fell for Wickham's flirtation…his lies…his abs.

Wickham's reeking falsehood contrasted with the crystalline emotions of Jane—sadness as the busyness of life slowly separated her from Bing, hope at the thought of reconnecting at his birthday party, confusion and heart-wrenching loss when he left without a word. Darcy winced as she collected her determination and prepared to follow Bing to Los Angeles. He knew the outcome only too well.

_She really did love him. I wish I had known better._

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Darcy sat up a little straighter when the filming location switched to Lizzie's familiar office at Collins &amp; Collins. Between Jane, their mother, Charlotte, Collins, and himself, there had been some form of tension in Lizzie's videos for quite some time. Seeing her chipper and aglow with happiness made him happier himself, even as he knew he would soon arrive to disrupt her peace.

Lizzie had reconciled with Charlotte, but she remained uncharacteristically tentative, taking pains to show she respected her new position and her contributions to the videos. She was also careful not to antagonize Collins, even when, as usual, he lacked the decency to knock before barging into a room. Darcy raised his eyebrows when Lizzie swallowed a sarcastic retort and thanked him for allowing her to film on his property, and he wondered whether she would be able to maintain this more polite attitude. It was more than he himself had been able to do with Collins.

She did. The following videos showed Collins range from ridiculous, describing his office's view of the carpark as "breathtaking," to clueless, imagining that she would be "in awe of the tremendous opportunity that you previously declined," to insulting, advising her to "choose the least offensive outfit you've brought along with you" for the dinner with Catherine de Bourgh. Darcy kept waiting for her to explode as she had before. She never did. There were longsuffering glances at the camera and some light sarcasm, but nothing more. She even went out of her way to be courteous, thanking him for including her in the dinner with his key investor.

Clearly, Lizzie was determined not to create any friction with her best friend's new business partner. Yet it did not seem to Darcy that she was only forcing herself to be agreeable. She seemed sincere, more willing to…to see beyond Collins's absurdities, perhaps.

This softer, gentler Lizzie attracted him more strongly than ever.

Not that her gentler attitude extended to himself. He had already winced when she matched him with the "hairless snaggle-tooth" Annie-kins, and now he watched helplessly as she proclaimed him a robot…and a defective robot, no less. She was right, of course—he had needed "some serious upgrades" then. Probably he still did. Despite his best efforts, he knew he was still all kinds of awkward around her.

Fitz appeared next, alliterating and charming and gaining entrance to Lizzie's life and videos with enviable ease. Darcy enjoyed their antics—Fitz's close-up with the camera, their banter over the contents of the care package for Jane—though his tension grew as the episode numbers ticked inexorably toward 60. He gained less joy from Fitz's attempts to wingman for him. Lizzie was having none of it, and things went from unpromising to cataclysmic when Fitz unwittingly revealed his role in breaking up Bing and Jane.

With that, the stage was set. The next video showed Lizzie in a familiar gray flowered dress, her voice shaking as she admitted "I can't hold it in anymore." Her usual confidants were off-limits, Jane because she was the affected party and Charlotte because of his temporary position of authority over her, so she vented all her suppressed rage to her viewers.

Then he appeared in her doorway.

It took every bit of self-control Darcy possessed to allow the next video to play. He was not ready to see it. He would never be ready to see it.

Lizzie had added an introduction at the beginning, a jarring reminder that what had passed between them was now very public. Darcy watched it numbly, registering little beyond that she did not seem angry. Then came the video itself.

He watched himself at first, hands clenched and nails biting into his palms to quell the urge to reach through the screen and throttle the man he had been. _Stop_, he wanted to yell, but nothing could have stopped him. Not Lizzie saying she was unwell, that this was "the worst possible time" he could have chosen. Not her strained voice and gritted teeth. Not the knowledge that he was being filmed.

He watched Lizzie, reading the effect of his words upon her as he had not bothered to do then. Her disgust, pain, and anger as he delivered what was surely the most insulting declaration of love ever made.

He flinched repeatedly, at his own words as well as hers, and then it was over. "Thank you for proving time and time again that your arrogance, pride, and selfishness make you the last man in the world I could _ever _fall in love with," Lizzie spat, and after that he could not leave quickly enough.

Like his video self, Darcy had to get away. He stopped the video, threw on his cycling gear, and was soon pedaling through the streets. There was no grueling pace this time. He was not trying to bury his mental anguish in sheer physical pain and exhaustion. He just needed to think, to work things through.

As he rode, he remembered the aftermath of Lizzie's rejection. At first, he had thought defiantly that his mistake was in his manner of expressing himself. That if he had spoken more politic words, had flattered her, she would have received him differently. It had taken hours of reliving that scene, a long angry sleepless night, to weaken that conviction. He knew better now.

Darcy coasted for a while as that thought sank in. He _did_ know better. He was a different man now. That was not self-congratulation—he was not going to damn himself with faint praise by celebrating that he no longer behaved as horribly as he had that day. Rather, he was now more as he should always have been. He was committed to treating others, no matter who they were, with respect. He was learning to see from other points of view. He battled almost daily against his pride. He deplored and would never forget what had happened that day, but there was now a clear separation between himself and the man in that video.

If not for Lizzie, he would still be that man.

Darcy pedaled on thoughtfully for some time, then abruptly stopped, leaned his bike against a pole, and pulled out his phone. A second viewing of Lizzie's introduction confirmed his initial impression. She had been bewildered, not angry or triumphant, when she posted that video.

That did not change or soften the fact that more than 300,000 people had watched a video that, by all that was legal and moral, should never have been made public. He had reason to be angry with her for posting it, for lying to him about it, but…

But somehow, his anger and resentment were gone.

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_Thanks to each of you for reading and especially to those who have taken time to comment! I would love to hear your thoughts on Darcy's reaction to the videos._


	7. The music in her voice

**Chapter seven: The music in her voice**

_Thursday, January 24_

Darcy liked Charlotte. He respected her. Really, he did. But at the moment, he found himself scowling at her, because she wouldn't leave his letter alone.

It had started in the first video after he'd given the letter to Lizzie. Charlotte had claimed her audience would be upset if she didn't share. Lizzie had resisted with a fortitude that surprised him: "I know from the comments that everyone is very curious about what's in Darcy's letter. But here's the thing…I can't tell you. Trust me, I know this goes against all previously established principles of these videos, where I tell you guys every embarrassing little thing, but the problem is, the contents of the letter are not mine to share." She had revealed some of it. She resented his continued disrespect toward her mother and Lydia, with good reason, but she said nothing about Gigi and Wickham other than to imply that she believed what he'd written.

Charlotte had subsided for a time, but now she was at it again, arguing that fairness demanded that Lizzie share what he'd written about Wickham. Darcy wondered sourly if Charlotte realized her similarity to Caroline, who had also urged Lizzie to report "facts" in her videos, irrespective of the ethics involved.

Lizzie finally gave in, and he tensed, unsure whether she would respect his confidences. She would not mention Gigi by name, surely she wouldn't, but…and then she set his fears to rest, telling only of Wickham's squandered college fund, and in such a charmingly pedantic way that he was soon smiling despite himself. Charlotte seemed satisfied too, and he was glad. It wouldn't do to resent Lizzie's best friend.

As it was, her sisters resented _him_, as the next video showed. Jane was too kind to say so outright, but she did not dispute Lydia's assertion that their "summer friends" had "filled our lives with drama and annoyance."

It was ironic in a way. At first, they had been more favorable toward him than Lizzie herself. He recalled Jane trying to convince Lizzie of his interest during one of the Netherfield videos, and later giving him the benefit of the doubt in the face of Wickham's lies. He recalled how Lydia had spoofed Lizzie's unrelenting hatred toward him during costume theater with Collins and again when reenacting their dance at Bing's party. She had probably just wanted to needle Lizzie, but still, she had not seemed to dislike him until now.

He didn't blame them for changing their minds. Of course they would resent his role in advising Bing to abandon Jane. He had insulted them too, citing Jane's apparent faithlessness and Lydia's energetic demeanor as his reasons for interfering. That he had not intended those words for their ears made no difference. As the "decent enough" incident had shown, intentions mattered little when the words were unkind.

Darcy still didn't know if there was any chance for himself and Lizzie, but this video showed that there were other difficulties to contend with aside from their own.

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"Party Time." Darcy would never have guessed that one of his favorite videos would be set during Lydia's 21st birthday party. The party itself—stained carpets, a wet T-shirt contest, a fire—sounded frightful, and he gave a bark of laughter when Lizzie's cousin Mary asked if he had attempted to crash it. But Lizzie…Lizzie was gorgeous, even more so than usual in a green party dress that accentuated the cream of her skin, the fire of her hair, the expressiveness of her eyes. And she believed him. She portrayed Wickham in costume theater as false and smarmy. And what she'd said to him…

"Actually, Darcy's not so bad. He has more virtues than some I could mention."

Darcy sucked in a breath. The words themselves were mild, but that _Lizzie _had spoken them, and to _Wickham_, gave them the feel of a ringing declaration.

He was watching the video for the third time when he registered Wickham's remark about having "some catching up to do." Of course. He must have started watching her videos again, realized that Darcy was still ignorant of them, and waited for an opportune moment to throw that bombshell in both their faces.

Yes, _both_ their faces. Darcy knew Wickham well enough to recognize that. Hurting Darcy would have been sufficient motivation, but he would have been eager to retaliate for Lizzie's rebuff as well.

He wondered how much it had actually hurt her.

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Well, that had gone badly, Darcy thought as Lydia sarcastically thanked Lizzie for the book and left.

It was unfortunate in so many ways. In previous videos, the early ones especially, Lizzie had said some extremely harsh things about Lydia. She had looked out for her sister, seeing her safely home whenever she was drunk, and so on, but this was the first time he could recall Lizzie actually trying to connect with Lydia and help her mature.

The advice Lizzie gave was sound: "A little discretion never hurt anyone…There's plenty of upsides to being a mature, responsible adult…Sometimes people form hasty impressions, and-and while they may not be, uh, completely accurate, it can be useful to understand how people came to those conclusions so you can change how people see you, if you want to…Everyone has to change, Lydia. It's part of growing up. It's not a bad thing."

Unfortunately, she had also uttered one particular word…energetic.

Darcy replayed the video, feeling even worse than before. Lydia had tried to laugh and brush the present off at first. The hurt and anger had not come until Lizzie quoted him, taking his side, as Lydia saw it. That anger then exploded in the next video.

Would Lydia have listened to Lizzie if not for that one word? He couldn't know. Perhaps not, for there had been tension between the two from the beginning. But he did know that his thoughtless arrogance had contributed to the hurt on Lizzie's face and to the chasm between the sisters.

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"Maybe I'll find where I'm supposed to be. That's actually my big New Year's resolution. Find where I'm supposed to be. So this is the first step," Lizzie said as she announced her visit to San Francisco. He wasn't prepared for the longing those words produced.

She had not known then that Pemberley was his. Charlotte wore a conscious expression, though, and he suspected Lizzie had not remained ignorant for long.

She had come anyway. Despite their history, despite never having been away from home by herself, despite having every reason to avoid him, she had come.

Darcy stopped the video and leaned back. Why had she come, and filmed him again? What did she think of him now? What did he think of _her_?

The next videos would help answer those questions, but he suddenly felt apprehensive about watching them. He needed more time to sift through what he'd already watched. He rose, stretching up onto his toes with his arms high above his head, then went to the kitchen. The clock showed past midnight, and he was glad he'd arranged to take the next day off work.

A memory struck him, and he paused amid scrounging for food and flicked through Lizzie's playlist on his phone. It took a couple minutes of trial and error to find the right video, but at last he struck pay dirt.

The video was titled, simply, "Charlotte's Back." Charlotte had confronted Lizzie over her determination to dislike Bing just because her mother approved of him. Then, with Charlotte alone on camera, came the words he'd remembered.

"Lizzie hates changing her mind." Charlotte knew Lizzie better than anyone, and the first time he'd watched this video, her words had threatened to destroy any wisp of hope he possessed.

But Lizzie _had_ changed, both her mind and her actions. Seventy-six videos in, that was what struck him most. She had changed toward Charlotte, truly listening to her and becoming a staunch supporter of her career choices. She had changed toward Collins, becoming more understanding of his idiosyncrasies. She had changed toward Wickham, recognizing the empty deception of his charm. She was beginning at least to change toward Lydia, trying to help her mature rather than dismissing and ridiculing her as she had at first. And, Darcy thought with a frisson of awe, she was changing toward _him_, respecting his confidence about Gigi, even championing him to Wickham's face.

What's more, she had allowed all these changes to take place on camera, with the knowledge that a hundred thousand strangers watched and analyzed her every word. Darcy thought of his own attempts to change since that day last fall—the shame as he examined the man he had been, the uncertain progress, the frustration when he would temporarily relapse into his old habits. He could not imagine having the courage to broadcast such a deeply personal, unpredictable process.

Yet Lizzie had. She had exposed herself just as thoroughly as she had exposed him, but in a different way.

Long, thoughtful minutes passed before he settled in for the final stretch of videos.

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_When I started thinking about the premise for this story, the big question in my mind was, can Darcy forgive Lizzie? If she lies to him about her videos, if he finds out about them in a particularly brutal way, if he is forced to back away and realize just how little he knows her (which, actually, book!Elizabeth teased Mr. Darcy about after their engagement)—can he forgive her? And even if he can forgive her, can he trust her again, enough to eventually put his heart on the line?_

_I did not assume the answer was yes. Forgiveness, understanding, grace—these are costly gifts. They do not come naturally to any of us, including Darcy. Keeping these questions in mind, I wrote their confrontation in chapter 1 and Darcy's despair in chapter 2. Then I watched the videos, trying to see them, and Lizzie, through Darcy's eyes. And as I did, I came to believe that he could, in fact, forgive her._

_Darcy is not finished with that process—he has yet to, you know, actually talk to Lizzie about any of this—but his marathon of her videos is pivotal for him. I would love to hear your thoughts. Given the premise of this story, is there a believable future for Lizzie and Darcy?_


	8. Stepping on the air

_In this story, the content of Lizzie's Pemberley videos is somewhat different than in LBD. You can find a list of major modifications here:_

_ouhusker7 dot tumblr dot com /post/109747080818_

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**Chapter eight: Stepping on the air**

_Friday, January 25_

Fitz answered the phone with "Yo, Darcy, you okay?"

Darcy wasn't surprised that Gigi had told him something was wrong. She had checked in on him at least twice a day since that afternoon in his office, mostly via text though she had called him once. Seeing her determined to take care of him instead of only needing him to take care of her—it was a strange transition.

Darcy opted for directness with Fitz. "Lizzie has a vlog."

"She has a…? Oh wait, I remember now. I was in a few of her videos."

"So am I."

"Oh reeeeally?" He could almost hear Fitz's eyebrows flying upward. "Since when?"

"Immediately after you were."

"Way back then? I thought you weren't supposed to know about them."

"I didn't."

There was a pause, and when Fitz spoke again, all trace of humor was gone. "You…didn't know?" he repeated slowly.

Darcy shook his head and determined to get the worst out of the way. "She said she was filming herself for her thesis," he said, as evenly as he could manage. "I, ah, declared myself in an exceptionally arrogant manner. She rejected me, I reacted badly, and…it deteriorated from there. I've been in several more videos under, um, less disastrous circumstances."

"Lizzie shot you down and then posted the whole thing on the internet?" Fitz said, sounding as angry as Darcy had ever heard him.

"She has now apologized," he added quickly.

"She'd damn well better apologize!"

"Profusely."

Fitz paused, then said, "I'm not supposed to be mad at her, huh?"

"No, I…". Darcy rubbed his hand over his face and mentally reined himself in. "You should form your own opinion, of course. I was angry enough, at first."

"Gosh, and I could have told you about her vlog. I _should_ have told you. I am so sorry, man."

"It's fine. Lizzie defended you quite, ah, vigorously, actually. You had no way of knowing she would post video of me."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have promised to keep something from you."

"It's fine, Fitz. Truly. Anyway, the reason I contacted you is that I've told Gigi about the videos, and we plan to watch them this evening."

"Okay…".

"And Wickham is in some of them."

"What the…?" Fitz bit off a curse word. "George Wickham is in Lizzie's videos?"

"They dated briefly. I was—."

"You want me to be ready to talk with her, if she needs it?"

"Actually, I wondered if you would join us. I plan to skip past the worst of it, but…well, I am not sure how she will react. I warn you, it will take the whole evening—Lizzie has been filming for some time, so there are over five hours of videos."

"I absolutely will join you. What time?"

They settled the details before hanging up.

Darcy prowled around his condo restlessly for a time, wondering what Gigi and Fitz would think of the videos. That, he decided, had to be his goal this evening—to observe their responses independently of his own, be what they may. It was right and respectful to do so. Eventually, he sat down to his laptop and navigated to Lizzie's channel again. There were a few videos he wanted to watch again before tonight.

Fitz, meanwhile, was deep in thought as he sat at his desk, finishing his lunch. The whole thing was unbelievable. Darcy had actually bit the bullet and asked Lizzie out? Even…what had he said, "declared himself?" Lizzie had seemed prickly toward Darcy at C&amp;C, so it wasn't surprising that she'd turned him down. But filming it and putting it on the internet? Fitz shook his head, disgusted. He must have been completely wrong about her.

He was more than disgusted, too. He was furious over what she was doing to his friend. Darcy had been quiet and grim after C&amp;C—hiding the pain of rejection, Fitz now realized, though at the time he'd assumed Darcy had recognized Lizzie's lack of interest and decided not to pursue her. Now she was at Pemberley, and Darcy had been all tied up in knots ever since her arrival, bending over backwards to make her comfortable there. And now she was putting him through this.

Fitz ate the last of his sandwich, washed his hands, and tapped away at his phone.

_GGD! Need a ride to the Lizzie B marathon?_

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"My name is Lizzie Bennet, and George Wickham is texting me!"

Gigi saw Lizzie's elation and winced, knowing it was about to begin. William had warned her that Lizzie had briefly dated George and that he appeared in some videos which they would skip. She was relieved they would skip them. She didn't think she could handle seeing George again, even in a video. In the current video, William waited until Lizzie began to compare George and Ricky Collins, then skipped the rest, frowning deeply as he did.

There had been a lot of wincing as they watched—at the horrible first meeting between William and Lizzie, at the way Lizzie interpreted every proof of William's interest as an insult, at Caroline's blatant scheming to feed Lizzie's anger at him. The wincing was all from Gigi and Fitz, though. Gigi always looked to William when Lizzie insulted him, and each time she found him watching the screen calmly. Too calmly, really. She wished for the ability to read his mind.

At other times, there was no mistaking his thoughts. Lizzie was a fascinating and playful vlogger much of the time, and they laughed a lot more than Gigi had thought they would. William only occasionally joined with a chuckle, but Gigi often looked up to find him smiling, his eyes alight and riveted on Lizzie.

They hadn't talked much while watching, only occasional comments, like when Fitz groaned to realize Jane and Bing had dated and, at her questioning look, replied cryptically that she would see why. But there was too much to absorb for them to talk much.

They watched the next videos in silence too, broken only by Fitz's approving noise when Lizzie turned down Ricky Collins's job offer and Gigi's "Oh no!" when the rift formed between Lizzie and Charlotte. Then George was in town, running into William at the local bar and inciting Lizzie's keen curiosity—and with it, Fitz's annoyance.

"Wickham Storytime?" Fitz read the title from the screen as William skipped the next two videos.

"He told her I denied him the college fund that was rightfully his."

"Of course he did. And she believed him?"

"Yes."

"Figures."

Gigi looked at her hands, feeling a kinship with Lizzie at that moment. "But how could she have known?"

Fitz blinked, sent her an apologetic look, and said no more.

Bing's party was next, and Jane's bewildered grief when he left town without a word. William described succinctly what he had seen and reported to Bing. Gigi trusted her brother absolutely, but surely the Jane she had watched for the past couple hours would never have…oh, it was all so confusing.

William skipped the next video, explaining that George dropped by to inform Lizzie he was leaving town.

Fitz snorted. "He sure didn't stick around long when you weren't there to interfere with."

"No, he did not," William said, his voice tight.

Gigi felt a sudden urge to watch the video, to see how Lizzie took it. Jane had broken down in tears when Bing left. Lizzie had not dated George that long, but without having seen them together, it was hard to tell how much she might grieve his absence.

The next video set her fears to rest, as Lizzie playfully wailed about missing him. "I'm really glad he didn't hurt her," Gigi said quietly.

Fitz, ever supportive, gave her a hug, but it was the warmth in William's eyes that buoyed her most. She settled back in her seat then to enjoy Lizzie's reunion with Charlotte.

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"'The social skills of an agoraphobic lobster?!'" Gigi echoed. "Geez, Fitz, way to wingman."

Darcy looked over her head at his friend and raised an eyebrow. "That was not the worst of his attempts, unfortunately."

"What did—?" was all Gigi got out before breaking into giggles at Fitz's close-up with the camera. Fitz just rubbed a hand over his face.

Gigi's teasing continued as Fitz impersonated Darcy in costume theater and then tried to convince Lizzie of his friend's smooth dance moves. Darcy was glad for it. He had known it would be humiliating to have Gigi and Fitz see how poorly he had behaved last year, but he had thought it would be worth it to see how they responded to the videos, and to Lizzie. Unfortunately, the reverse had occurred—he often looked at them only to find their eyes on him. They seemed more than anything to be watching _him_ watch the videos. It was extremely unnerving.

The current reprieve would not last long, unfortunately. The rejection video was coming, and Darcy dreaded it above everything. It was one thing to tell his sister and friend that he had been brutally and deservedly rejected; it was another for them to witness it, to be there as they witnessed it, to have them watching him as they witnessed it. His stomach turned just thinking about it. The abstract knowledge of the other 300,000 viewers was nothing to this.

"Ugh, you are the worst wingman ever!" was the next thing he registered. He smiled, slightly and humorlessly, at Gigi's response to Fitz's unwitting bombshell about Bing and Jane.

"I know," Fitz sighed, looking over at him. "I'm really sorry about that."

"No apology necessary. I am hardly in a position to censure you for being oblivious."

"Oblivious is right. Lizzie's not exactly subtle, but I was so focused on talking you up that I missed all the signs I was only making it worse."

No, Lizzie wasn't subtle. She was on camera in that gray flowered dress again now, seething, and Darcy knew he had only minutes to prepare himself. He took a deep breath, clasped his hands in his lap, and tried to keep his chin from retreating into his neck. So help him, he would not give anything away.

Then he stepped into the doorway behind Lizzie. And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Gigi, burrowing her way under his arm, wrapping her arms around his chest, resting her head against his shoulder, offering the sweetest comfort and support imaginable. His eyes burned as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

He made it through. Fitz gave him a reassuring nod when it was all over. Neither, mercifully, said anything.

Their silence lasted into the next video, until he sat again before Lizzie's camera.

"I apologize—I hope I have not interrupted anything important?"

"No!" Lizzie answered quickly. "No, I, uh, was just filming myself. And Charlotte. I do that sometimes, for…um, for my thesis."

"Riiiiiiight," Fitz muttered.

Darcy looked down to find Gigi looking over at Fitz. "She looks about as comfortable when lying as I do," she said thoughtfully.

Fitz sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck. "I know, I know. I shouldn't—." He broke off when the video showed Darcy hand Lizzie the letter. "Oh no. Please tell me you didn't tell her about Wickham and Gigi."

"I did." Darcy looked down at his sister and tightened his arm around her. "I have already apologized to Gigi for revealing such a thing without her permission."

Fitz bit off his words. "And she put it in her videos?"

"No. Not a word of it."

"Hm. Well, at least that's something." Some of the edge had left his voice.

%%%

Fitz knew he was being hard on Lizzie. It wasn't like him to hold a grudge like this. It wasn't that he disliked Lizzie herself, or the parts of her vlog that didn't involve Darcy or Bing. They'd hit it off immediately back at C&amp;C and picked up right where they left off here in San Francisco. She was smart and funny and had a lot of personality, and those qualities definitely came across in her videos.

But clearly, smart and funny and personality did not equal trustworthy.

He had a right to be hard on her. What she had done was flat-out wrong. She had worried on camera that Darcy could sue her for the videos, and she was right. He wouldn't, of course, but not for lack of grounds.

That was what bothered him most. Not that Darcy wouldn't sue her, but that he seemed determined not to hold it—_any_ of it—against her. Fitz might be in a more understanding mood toward Lizzie if he wasn't afraid his close friend would head into danger again.

The title "Letter Analysis" appeared on the screen next. This could be interesting. He wondered if she would believe anything in it or if she would just find some new way to misunderstand Darcy. She had to change toward him at some point, at least a little. Fitz hadn't actually seen the two together since she came to San Francisco, but from what he had seen of her and what Gigi told him, Lizzie seemed to like Darcy much better than she had at C&amp;C. Not that that was saying much. But maybe Darcy's letter had done some good.

_Whoa_, he thought as the video ended. Darcy's letter had worked wonders. Lizzie was still mad about his attitude toward her family, understandably, but aside from that, what a change: "Other parts of the letter make me think that maybe I was a little harsh on Darcy. And it makes me rethink my once-good opinion of someone with whom I'm glad to say I no longer associate. This is definitely messing with my worldview. It's like I don't know myself anymore." She was even, she said a few videos later, grateful for the letter.

And a few videos after that, she ran into Wickham and informed him Darcy had more virtues than he did and that he was not to attend her sister's birthday party. Fitz found himself grinning as she and her cousin reenacted that conversation, and when he looked to Gigi, he found her with eyes wide and a tiny smile.

So Lizzie could change her mind and admit she was wrong, not just to herself but in front of a hundred thousand viewers. He respected that. But was she trustworthy? How could he—and more importantly, Darcy—ever really know?

Her videos would shift to Pemberley Digital soon. Darcy had said earlier that he was in several of those videos. Maybe watching them would help him figure this out.

%%%

_Sunday, January 27_

Darcy sat back in his chair, yet another marathon of Lizzie's videos complete. He had been mulling over them for four days now, sitting back at times and losing himself in her smiles and vivacity, and other times analyzing every last word, inflection, and expression, cataloging details as if the minutiae could ever sum to the whole that was Lizzie Bennet. But what good was this wealth of information if he didn't know what to do with it?

He rarely asked for advice in personal matters—to his detriment, he was beginning to realize. Besides, at this point he wasn't sure he could trust his own judgment where Lizzie was concerned. He needed advice, and he trusted Fitz. Darcy picked up his phone and made the call.

Yes, Fitz said, this was a good time to talk. Darcy took a deep breath and plunged in. "Fitz," he said, his voice low, "am I a fool to think of trusting Lizzie again?"

Fitz let out a whistle and did not answer immediately. "Man, I wish I knew. Before we watched the videos, I would have said you were crazy. Like, absolutely freaking bonkers, it's intervention time crazy. But now…".

"You think otherwise?" he said, his voice carefully neutral.

"I don't know." There was another pause, then, "I was just watching the videos again, actually, and Gigi was right. Lizzie…she looks uncomfortable when she's lying. Like she feels really guilty about it. I mean, maybe she doesn't always, and we just don't know that she's lying. But when she lied to you about her videos…it was obvious, just looking at her."

"That may be, but I fell for it both times. I—I don't want to be always watching for some facial or verbal tic to know if she's lying."

"True."

Silence again, broken by Darcy's wry observation. "I would have expected more decisive advice from the man who 'taught me everything I know about living life.'"

A sigh gusted through the connection. "I'm never going to hear the end of those videos, am I?"

"No."

Another sigh. "And I'm getting it from Gigi too. Both barrels. Yay for me."

"I will send you all the pity I can spare."

That made him laugh. Then they lapsed into silence for a time before Fitz said, "Soooo…what does it mean that you're thinking of trusting her again? Like, are you deciding whether to ask her out?"

"No. It's much too soon for that."

"Good."

"We would need to heal this…this breach between us first. But…I wish…".

"What?" Fitz prompted after a long moment.

Darcy hesitated still, his habitual reserve making him shrink from sharing more than he already had. But the need to confide in his friend was stronger. "All this deliberation is useless if she still feels as she did last fall. I gather that she has changed her mind about me, but she has said nothing in the videos to indicate a change in her feelings. With…with Wickham, she admitted even before they began seeing each other that she liked him and enjoyed his company. It would be unlike her to be reticent with her viewers now."

"Well, she did say he made her look stupid. She's probably just being more careful this time."

"More likely she says nothing because she feels nothing."

Fitz laughed. "Okay, you want decisive? I'll be decisive. Lizzie likes you now."

"She…does?"

"Dude, did you _see_ the way she was looking at you in the last few videos? Besides, why do you think she kept putting you in them?"

"Lack of options. Bing was here for only a brief visit; you might get too curious if she filmed you again; and she didn't want to tell or show Gigi."

"Well, she could have made the videos alone."

"That is not how she operates. She has filmed only one video by herself."

There was a pause. "Just how many times have you watched her videos?"

"Five," he said quietly. "Some more than that."

"Damn." Fitz paused again, and Darcy braced himself for teasing that didn't come. "Maybe you're right…but you and I both know there's more to it than that."

"Penance, then."

"Maybe. But she already did a lot of that. I mean, she didn't, you know, actually apologize to you on camera. But she told the truth about Wickham's college fund and showed like five straight minutes of Reynolds singing your praises during her tour. Dude, that video was a freaking tribute to Pemberley Digital and especially to you."

"I know." That video had shocked him more than any other. "Our web traffic has surged since she came here. So has hers."

"Do you think that's why she did it?"

He sucked in a breath. "No."

There was silence, broken by the opening and closing of a car door. "Does that answer your question?"

"Well…perhaps," he said. "I appreciate your advice." Fitz had to end the call soon after.

Darcy pocketed his phone and began to pace. Was Fitz correct? Just for a moment, he imagined what it would mean if Lizzie did care for him, and yearning and hope nearly swept him away.

He clamped down on those emotions ruthlessly. He needed to be cautious, not impulsive. _Thinking_ he could trust her was not enough. If he was to risk everything with her again, he had to be certain. Furthermore, he had misread her feelings before, with disastrous consequences. If he was wrong this time, he would make an already fraught situation between them worse, and disturb her peace at a time when she was separated from her friends and family. If he was wrong, he would open himself up for yet another emotional blow, one he doubted his ability to survive.

He could not afford to be wrong.

Darcy took a deep breath to calm himself, then watched the Pemberley videos again. And again. As with every previous viewing, he came away with mixed observations.

Could Lizzie be trusted now? Most likely, yes. She had shown herself to be more principled in these videos than in the past. She posted footage of Reynolds from their tour of Pemberley, but only after Reynolds freely gave her permission to use the footage however she needed to for her thesis. She did not post any footage of Gigi, though doing so would have filled some of the disjointed gaps in the video that ended with his unexpected arrival in her office. She did not prevaricate when Bing questioned whether her videos were truly letters to Charlotte. She asked permission to film the interview with himself, and while that did not excuse her posting it without his consent, he could also see that she'd edited out anything that could be remotely considered confidential about Pemberley Digital. And she had apologized forthrightly in her letter.

Did Lizzie like him now? Maybe. Certainly, she looked at him differently. She no longer appeared disgusted or ready to spit nails, as she had in earlier videos. She was startled and disconcerted upon first seeing him at Pemberley. She was tense, seemingly having to work up her courage later to ask him why he hadn't told Bing that Jane had been devastated by his abandonment. Startled…disconcerted…tense…those were hardly words to inspire confidence. The most recent video was considerably more promising. She termed their weekend tour of the city "fun," and the footage she had selected from their interview showed the nascent rapport and flirtation that had so thrilled him. But he was not about to draw conclusions about her feelings based on one video. For all he knew, her good mood that day could have been caused by something other than their conversation.

Darcy closed his laptop at last and ran his hands wearily over his face. He needed a lot more than _most likely _and_ maybe_. And apparently he would not find what he needed in her videos.

%%%

_This chapter was initially just two conversations between Fitz and Darcy, one in which Darcy asked Fitz to watch the videos with Gigi and another debriefing it afterward. Then LadyRuthless pressed me as to why Fitz hadn't told Darcy about the videos, and I realized I needed to address that. And then KiralaMouse commented "I really kinda want Darcy to watch the vids with Gigi"…and I realized I wanted that too. I like this final version much better, so thanks to both of them!_


	9. Each breath

_The previous chapter has been updated to more directly include Darcy's reactions to the Pemberley videos. The new text is at the end. Enjoy!_

_Also, note that I've slightly fleshed out the description of the modified videos for this AU. You can find it at: ouhusker7 dot tumblr dot com /post/109747080818_

%%%

**Chapter nine: Each breath**

_Tuesday, January 29_

Lizzie returned from lunch, plopped down in her desk chair, and sighed. No Darcy, again. It had been seven days since he found out about her videos, six since she'd given him that letter, and she had not seen him even once.

This was definitely the longest she'd gone without seeing him since coming to San Francisco. Part of it was her doing—she'd stayed in her office more than usual last week, avoiding the break room, the meeting rooms, the hallways near his office, all the places where she used to see him. The rest must be because he was avoiding her. She heard he'd canceled a few meetings last week. Considering he'd run Pemberley Digital from Netherfield for weeks at a time last year, she wondered if he would just stay away from its offices until she left. It was sickening to think she might have driven him away from his own company.

She didn't want to see him. If she'd said that to herself once, she'd said it a hundred times. And it was true. Things between them were awkward at the best of times, but after what had happened, it would be excruciating. She felt guilty enough just knowing what she'd done. How much worse would it be to see the consequences of her actions? Coldness, contempt, hatred—everything she thought she'd seen in his eyes last year would actually be there now, with good reason. And if she saw pain there too, pain she had caused and could do nothing to alleviate…she shuddered. No, she didn't want to see him.

But not seeing him was slowly driving her insane.

The weekend had been the worst. She'd watched most of her videos again, the fresh shock of her first marathon giving way to an even more crushing conviction of what she had done. She made a few phone calls afterward. She called her dad, and her mom got on the line too. She didn't tell them about her videos—she was far too drained to deal with that right now—but it was good to hear their voices. She called Lydia, and while their conversation wasn't exactly pleasant, they managed to talk for several minutes without losing their tempers. So that was something. She spoke briefly with Jane—who was apparently multi-tasking at work on a Saturday afternoon, for pete's sake—but didn't call Charlotte, who she knew was swamped with the Collins &amp; Collins internet-free retreat. She knew they would make time if she said she needed them, but…she just couldn't talk to them about this yet. Even more obviously, she couldn't talk to Gigi or Fitz, who were her only friends in San Francisco. Emphasis on _were_, past tense, because she'd forfeited their friendship as surely as she'd forfeited any might-have-beens with Darcy.

The weekend was even more miserable because of her memories of the previous weekend—an amazing Saturday of sightseeing with Gigi and Darcy, followed by an evening of karaoke with Gigi and a Sunday lunch with Fitz. She hadn't felt alone then, despite being so far from her family. Exploring San Francisco in step with Darcy had made the city seem less foreign, more exciting and even welcoming. Past tense again.

Sheer stir-craziness brought her to Pemberley bright and early on Monday and fueled a productive day of work on her prospectus. She interviewed a couple key people in the production department, then visited marketing to discuss the analytics breakdown they'd given her. She even took work home with her—it seemed less dangerous than being alone with her thoughts—and spent the evening marshaling the data and creating all the necessary tables and charts. Accomplishing something felt awesome after so many gloomy days.

Unfortunately, that left her with nothing easy to do today. She could no longer bury herself in the dry abstraction of numbers. Instead, she spent the morning trying to outline her report. Her basic outline was already set—as with every company she'd shadowed, she would describe Pemberley Digital's initial objectives and then analyze its evolution in response to the constantly-changing landscape of mass communications. But trying to flesh out that outline brought her productivity to a grinding halt. It wasn't for lack of material. Pemberley was the oldest of the companies she'd shadowed, and Anne Reynolds, its longest tenured employee, had given her a detailed and absorbing history. That would form part of Lizzie's report. She would also need to assess it as it was now—its vision, its efficiency and innovations, the opportunities for creative fulfillment and professional advancement offered to its employees…basically everything that made it the most incredible company she'd ever seen.

All of which pointed straight to Darcy. Pemberley Digital's excellence, she had come to realize, was tied up in him and his family heritage.

And there her thoughts stopped. William Darcy. When she first saw him at Pemberley, she'd been amazed by how much he had changed. His letter had shown her that she'd misjudged him, but what she saw now went far beyond that. Despite their history, he had treated her with courtesy, even kindness. It was unbelievable! But the more she observed him with his sister and spoke with his employees, the more she was convinced of how _little _he'd changed. His manners were improved, certainly, but his basic character was very much as it had always been. Only now was she seeing him without all her stupid blinding prejudice.

And this was the man she had hated and rejected. This was the man she had defamed in her videos.

Had he watched them, she wondered for the hundredth time? She hoped he hadn't, for his sake and her own. Did he believe anything she'd written, or had he merely glanced through her letter before tearing it to shreds, furious at her weak explanations? Or had reading it made him thank his lucky stars that he wasn't in a relationship with her? And when she saw him—_if _she saw him before she left—would she get the answers to any of these dreadful questions? The thought of never knowing his response, never seeing him again, made her stomach lurch. She wondered if he felt like this after handing her that letter last fall.

Enough! Lizzie swore under her breath and propelled herself from her chair. It was pathetic how much time she'd spent moping over Darcy today. Or—who was she kidding?—over the last week. And anyway, moping was worse than useless now. It kept her from making progress on her report, and the only relief in sight for her was completing that report and leaving Darcy and Pemberley and San Francisco behind. And it _would_ be a relief to leave, no matter that her heart was unconvinced of that fact.

Focus. Lizzie paced back and forth in front of her office's window, glancing outside periodically. She often found that getting away from her laptop helped her organize her thoughts.

Start with section one. She would need to describe the company's shift from primarily film-based storytelling as Pemberley Productions through its rebranding as Pemberley Digital to its current success in the video app market. Maybe the rebranding could serve as a divide in her report, just as it had in the company's history. Pemberley Productions represented Darcy's grandfather's original vision for—what was the slogan had Reynolds mentioned, "a cultured alternative to Hollywood?" And the switch to Pemberley Digital epitomized the company's evolution and commitment to new media. That might work. She'd already made a chart showing the—.

"Excuse me, Lizzie."

She whirled around to find him standing in her doorway, tall and achingly handsome and…and completely unreadable. "Darcy!" she squeaked, her emotions running wild at the sight of him.

"May I have a word with you?"

Lizzie nodded, not trusting her voice any more. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides. She knew she deserved whatever he'd come to say.

"Would you care to sit?" he said, gesturing to the couch beside her.

She sat.

Darcy joined her and got straight to the point. "I have read your letter."

"Oh." Her heart was thudding so heavily now that she could feel it all the way to her fingertips. She swallowed hard. "I…I can't tell you how sorry I am for the things I said and did."

He nodded. "Nor can I. I have wronged you more than once, but especially…that day last fall. I have been ashamed of my words ever since."

"Th-that's okay," she said, almost before he finished speaking. "What I did to you was a hell of a lot worse than that."

"But you made no claim to care for me. I did, then barged in against your wishes, insulted you and your family, and had the gall to expect you to accept me anyway. That demonstrated pride, arrogance, and selfishness, as you rightly said, and not love."

"Oh." Did that mean he'd never really loved her at all? The thought made her feel more forlorn than ever.

"I also apologize for my behavior last week, for raising my voice and…and making you flinch."

"No, I…". She paused, attempting to unscramble the disorder that was her thoughts right now. She'd imagined a dozen ways he might respond to her letter, and this bore no resemblance to any of them. "That was just because you were so…angry, and I knew there was nothing I could do to…".

"To defend yourself?" he said quietly.

"Yes."

His entire frame became rigid, his eyes slamming shut as he turned his face away from her. She frowned, confused by his reaction. She'd admitted in her letter that she had no real defense to offer, so why would he be surprised that...oh. Suddenly, she realized what he'd been asking.

"No, no, I didn't mean it that way! I mean, you were asking why, and I couldn't do anything to change or defend what I'd _done_." He looked back at her, eyeing her cautiously still. "I promise I wasn't afraid of you."

That seemed to satisfy him, and he breathed once more, his shoulders losing some of their tension. "I am glad to hear it. Will you forgive my behavior last fall, then?"

"Of course! But…I don't think it's fair to compare that to what I did."

Darcy looked determined for a moment, then tilted his head slightly. "Perhaps we shouldn't argue for the greater share of blame?"

Lizzie wanted to rebel against his words. He had been wrong last fall, sure, and she respected his apology. But how could he suggest that kind of equivalence? He had been so shaken, so rightfully angry when he confronted her—and now he was impossibly calm and would hardly let her apologize! What could it mean? Maybe he was still leery of frightening her, and did not want her to see how upset he still was? Or…or maybe he'd indirectly told her why. He had discovered that he had never really _loved_ her. And as she'd expected, her actions and whatever he watched of her videos had made him realize he had never really loved _her_. That could explain the way he was acting now. He might just be relieved he had escaped a relationship with her.

It hurt. It scared her how much it hurt. But he was trying to be magnanimous, and whatever his reasons, she had to accept that.

"Okay," she said at last, and tried to smile.

_To be continued…_

%%%

_So…they've finally talked. I would love to hear your reactions. Thanks to those who have already left reviews!_


	10. This fragile world

**Chapter ten: This fragile world**

_Tuesday, January 29_

Darcy nodded and leaned back a little, settling in rather than rising to leave, as she'd have expected.

"I am also here because I need your help."

"Oh! Y-yes, anything!" He frowned a little at her answer, but she was serious. She couldn't imagine what he could possibly need from her, but she owed him, big time.

"Have you heard about Domino?"

"You mean…the game with tiles?"

He shook his head. "It is our new app that coordinates text, audio, and video messaging. Its uniqueness lies in its ability to automatically edit the input communications, using facial expressions and vocal inflections to sense what will make for a good story."

"An app that knows how to tell a story? Th-that sounds amazing! Is it far enough along that I could include it in my prospectus?"

"Yes. A demo will launch on YouTube tomorrow, so its existence will be public knowledge. Actually, that leads to my question for you."

He paused to clear his throat, and Lizzie's thoughts skittered about as she tried to imagine what he might want from her. Was he worried that Pemberley Digital's clients would find her videos? Would he ask her to take them down?

"Domino is designed to produce videos somewhat similar to yours. Gigi will handle the demo, but she is nervous because she has little experience on camera and none in a vlog format. Would you consider advising her?"

_What?!_ Lizzie could hardly keep from gasping. Magnanimity was one thing, but this? Why would he ask such a thing of her, after what she'd done? Surely she had misunderstood him.

"Y-you want me to teach your sister…to _vlog_?" she stammered.

"Yes."

She could only stare at him. Long seconds passed before he added, "You are under no obligation to assist her, obviously. I just thought you the best person to ask. You would, of course, receive official credit as her advisor for this project."

Slowly, infuriatingly slowly, clarity began to emerge from the muddle. This was a business proposition. He needed an experienced vlogger on short notice, and maybe she was the only one he knew in San Francisco. He knew the basic setup of her videos—he'd admitted before to watching part of one, so that was no surprise—but he must not have watched much more, or he wouldn't have asked this.

"Are you sure?" she asked tentatively. "I mean…w-what if your clients find my videos?"

"No doubt some already have. That need not concern you."

_Oh._ His words, spoken so firmly and without hesitation, should have brought her relief. Instead, she felt even lower than before. The man of feeling and warmth she had only just begun to know was gone now, and it was her own doing. She wondered if she would ever hear emotion in his voice again.

Still, if he truly wanted her to do this, she could not refuse. "Oh. Well, um…okay, then."

"You will advise Gigi?"

Lizzie took a deep breath and raised her chin. "Yeah. But you don't need to list me as her advisor."

Darcy inclined his head. "Very well."

And so she found herself being escorted toward the production facility.

Walking the halls of Pemberley Digital with its CEO was a very different experience than walking them alone or with a tour guide. She had already seen the way his employees smiled when his name was mentioned, but now she noticed anew how they reacted to him in person. Darcy took their attention in stride. It was not that he ignored them—in fact, he exchanged greetings with several people as they passed—but he commanded respect unconsciously and unmistakably. She thought as they walked about how many people's livelihoods depended on him, and how he bore that responsibility without reservation.

These were painful observations in her current state of mind, and Lizzie was relieved when the head of IT stopped him with a question. She stepped back a little, tore her eyes with difficulty from Darcy's strong frame, and tried desperately to rein in her chaotic emotions. She had a job to do, and she couldn't do it well if she was distracted and brooding like this. She needed to think about how to advise Gigi, based on her own experience…

Gigi. Her own experience.

Lizzie froze, dismayed, and her gaze snapped back to Darcy. He didn't know all the consequences of what he'd asked her to do. She had to talk to him. Now, before they saw Gigi. And not in front of all his employees.

She stared at him, waiting impatiently for his conversation to end. When the woman finally turned to go back to her desk, Lizzie moved fast, planting herself squarely in front of him. "C-can we talk? Please?" she whispered urgently.

Darcy frowned but nevertheless led her to a nearby alcove, where a tall plant gave them some privacy. "What's wrong?"

"I just…I can't do this!" she exclaimed, struggling to keep her voice quiet to avoid attracting attention. "I-I'm sorry, but…if I do, Gigi's going to find my videos! She's already only one Google search away from finding them, and once she knows I'm a vlogger it-it's sure to happen. And then she'll…". Her voice trailed off when she noticed the shift in Darcy's expression.

"Gigi has seen your videos already. I told her about them late last week."

"Oh no!"

Darcy stiffened. "She was concerned by my, ah, demeanor and deduced that it related to you. I feared she might find the videos and suffer distress in thinking I did not know about them. I apologize if my decision…displeases you," he said carefully.

"No, no, it's fine!" she said quickly. "I mean, like I said, they're on the internet."

He nodded curtly, and she wanted to rip out her tongue. _Brilliant one, Lizzie_, she thought. _It's not like he's going to forget that._

"It's just that…George Wickham was in a few of them, and he said…". She swallowed, unable to bring herself to repeat it. "Nurturing young athletes" was a sick, sick euphemism.

"I know what he said. Fitz and I watched your videos with her, and we skipped certain of them."

Oh. He had watched her videos after all. Wow. "Is…is she okay?"

"I believe so," he said, his expression softening slightly. "She confides in Fitz more than myself in that area, but she did not appear distressed."

"Oh. Well, um, that's…good."

And now she sounded like an idiot. She knew she should quit talking and get on with it. He was a busy man and certainly had more important things to do than calm her fears about circumstances she'd brought on herself. But he did not seem impatient to get away, and the more she thought about what she'd agreed to do, the more she panicked.

"Was this her idea? Is this a convoluted plan for her to get me alone and kill me?" she finally blurted. "Because if I were your sister, I would definitely want to kill me."

An odd expression flickered over Darcy's face. "She made no mention of homicidal intentions."

That…wasn't exactly reassuring.

He tried again. "The idea was mine, but I gained her approval before approaching you. I will not presume to tell you what she thinks of your videos, but I do not believe she is angry with you." He looked away for a moment, then returned his gaze to her. "I will tell her the truth, should she ask, but thus far I have not told her, or anyone, how I came to know of your videos."

Lizzie's mouth fell open. His worst enemy had attacked him using ammunition she had supplied, yet he had said nothing about it? His decision would shield her from at least some of the anger and protectiveness his sister and friends would naturally feel.

Was it possible that was why he had done it? Her hands were ready to stretch toward him, longing to hug him for his thoughtfulness, but cold reality stopped her. She had no right to touch him. He didn't want that from her. And anyway, he had probably done this for Gigi, so she would not be troubled by another reminder of the jerk who had hurt her. How delusional could she be, to think even for a moment that he might have done this for her?

"Um…good," she finally mumbled, crossing her arms over her stomach. "Thank you."

They stood looking at each other for long, awkward, unpromising seconds. Then she took a hasty step back toward the hallway, and they were on their way.

%%%

Domino. Right. Lizzie looked away from Darcy's retreating figure, glanced nervously at Gigi sitting beside her, and then tried to listen as Drew, head of the app development team, outlined the plan for the demo. Gigi would demonstrate basic text and video messaging, filming six videos over a three-week period. "Life-revealing" was the buzzword, and Drew's enthusiasm for the project eventually gained Lizzie's whole attention.

"So what are you going to talk about?" she asked Gigi. "The company, or current events, or what?"

Gigi shrugged and look to Drew, who replied, "Current events, daily life, whatever. We're keeping an open mind about the content. We're doing a demo instead of just an instructional video because we want to show what this baby can do."

Lizzie was surprised. That sounded very unstructured, considering Domino's importance to Pemberley Digital.

"What can I do? Like, do you have specific questions for me, or should I just walk you through making a video, or what?"

Gigi looked to Drew. "Oh! _Can_ we walk through one, without Domino auto-uploading it?"

"Sure, just give me a few minutes to get it set up," he said, and headed for the door.

And then they were alone. The very thing she'd been dreading. She took a deep breath, wishing she knew what to say.

"The set is over here," Gigi said, interrupting her thoughts.

They walked to the corner of the room, where a camera and laptop were ready for use, and Gigi sat down with her back to a small table.

"The lighting is good," Lizzie said, looking at the bright winter sunlight streaming in through the nearby window. "It was kind of dim sometimes in…um, in my room."

"Really? I guess I didn't notice that."

"Oh." Good grief, this was awkward. She examined the camera briefly, but soon she found she had to say something. "Look, I—I don't have to do this. If you don't want me to, I mean. I know Darcy asked if it was okay with you, but…I can get someone else, if you want. Charlotte's not here, but I could set you up to video chat with her. She knows more about the professional side of making videos anyway, and—."

"No, it's fine, really! You're exactly the right person to ask. You make it look so…easy."

Lizzie looked at her sharply, but Gigi seemed sincere. "Uh, thanks."

Right. So they really were going to do this. Lizzie still had all kinds of doubts about it, but she shelved them for the moment and forced a smile. "Okay, let's get started. What do you have planned for the first video?"

%%%

_Wednesday, January 30_

The video ended, and Gigi looked across the small office to her brother. William looked at the screen for a few more seconds, thoughtfully, and she straightened in her chair. She knew he wouldn't say anything right away—he liked to let his team speak first, so he could get the full benefit of their ideas without his own opinions to sway them—but she did so hope he liked her first video.

His eyes swept the semi-circle, lingering on her and on Lizzie, seated beside her. "Opinions?"

"It's a solid introduction," Drew said. "Not too much information for a first video, but enough to show off the technical capabilities."

"The editing was smooth and crisp," added Sylvia. "I couldn't have done it better manually."

Gigi spoke up. "Filming was a lot easier than I expected. Lizzie said to picture a friend behind the camera, and that really helped."

"You were great, Gigi," Sylvia encouraged. "I think your enthusiasm and confidence will bring back a lot of viewers for the second video."

Gigi smiled, then glowed as William looked at her and nodded his approval.

Then he addressed Lizzie. Gigi wondered if the others noticed the slight softening in his voice, or if only a sister's careful ears could hear it.

"The energy level was good, and bantering with Fitz was a good way to introduce the video portal," Lizzie replied, looking at Gigi. "Have you thought about the next video?"

"Well, I haven't done any texting yet on the demo. Fitz is having a Super Bowl party Sunday, so I could text him about that."

"So you'll have shown both types of messaging," Lizzie said, hesitating a little.

"There's a lot of buzz for the game, with us being there for the first time in 18 years," Drew said. "We'll attract more viewers if we tie it in somehow."

Gigi bit her lip, wondering what on earth she could say about the Super Bowl on the demo, but William was already shaking his head.

"Neither Gigi nor Fitz follows the 49ers that closely. We would just be shoehorning it in." He narrowed his eyes, thinking. "Lizzie is right. Engaging as this was, there are dozens of apps for video or text messaging. What will set Domino apart is its ability to construct a story."

Gigi looked to Lizzie when William spoke her name, and watched as her eyes rounded in surprise. Clearly, she hadn't expected him to catch her meaning, much less agree with it. Gigi smiled faintly. She'd seen that look on Lizzie's face a lot during her time in San Francisco. It made a lot more sense now that she'd watched the videos.

"We shouldn't need to _feed_ it a story," Drew was saying, and William nodded his agreement. "But I agree, we have to give it enough to work with, especially since the demo won't last long."

"Just keep doing what you're doing, Gigi," Sylvia said. "But take more time with it, and don't be afraid to talk about whatever's on your mind."

The informal meeting broke then, and Gigi walked slowly back to her desk, trying to think what topics had worked for Lizzie. She wasn't sure she could pull off costume theater, and while Lizzie talked a lot about her sister's love life, she knew William would never allow her to talk about his on the demo. But she and Fitz never ran out of things to talk about. Tennis, school, skiing, his latest gourmet project, the grad school essays she was supposed to be working on…yes, there were possibilities.

%%%

_Thursday, January 31_

"Too true, GGD, too true," Fitz conceded with a grin. Then, "Hey, you still coming to the party on Sunday?"

"Wouldn't miss it! I was thinking of bringing a friend, if that's okay."

"Well you know me. The more the…". He paused, then touched his nose. "Ah, I get you. Yeah, bring whoever you want."

"Oh, the possibilities!"

"Uh-huh," he said with a knowing look. Then, "Okay, I need to get back to business. Fitz Williams out!"

Gigi grinned as the video portal went blank, then quickly wrapped up the video.

"How was that?" she asked Lizzie once the red light was off.

"You're a lot smoother than I was, two videos in. I don't even think you need me here any more!"

"Okay, then how about being in the next video?"

"W-what?" Lizzie looked alarmed.

"You know, so the whole demo isn't just me and Fitz?"

"Oh, I, uh, don't think I should do that."

Gigi studied her for a moment. "William won't mind. I can ask him if you want."

"No, I…it's just better if I don't."

"Okay, I can ask someone else," Gigi said slowly. She was pretty sure she knew what the difficulty was. "He really isn't mad at you, you know."

"That…that's hard to believe," Lizzie said quietly.

"Hey, I marathoned your videos with him, remember? The only time he seemed upset was when we skipped the videos with…with George." Well, and the rejection video clearly distressed him still, but she couldn't say that to Lizzie. "I think he was just worried for me."

Lizzie winced and look away. "I'm sure he was."

Clearly, she wasn't going to talk Lizzie into believing William truly wasn't angry with her. Her disbelief was understandable, of course. When William had called to tell her about the videos, Gigi would not have been surprised if he had decided to cut Lizzie off for deceiving him in that way. Yet now, after talking to him and watching the videos with him, his decision to do the opposite no longer surprised her either. She knew better than anyone his immense capacity for forgiving those he loved. Never once had he alluded to all the vicious words she'd hurled at him in the days after George left, though she knew they must be seared in him as they were in her. Now he was choosing to forgive Lizzie…but Lizzie was so consumed with guilt and confusion that she couldn't see it.

Gigi decided to let the subject drop. For now, anyway. There was something else she needed to say. "Lizzie?" she said to recapture her attention. "I know William wrote to you about what happened with George and me." Her hands fidgeted in her lap. "Thank you for keeping it secret."

"Of course!" Lizzie said quickly, her eyebrows furrowing. "It wasn't my story to tell. I would never—." She stopped and blushed. "Oh. But you thought I would."

Gigi shrugged. "It crossed my mind."

"Does it bother you that I know?"

She shook her head. It was a relief, really. She'd spent too much time dreading other people's reactions. "No, I'm glad he told you. And that it helped you change your mind about him. He…he's the best brother a girl could ask for, you know."

Lizzie smiled sadly. "I can tell."

%%%

_So…the Domino demo. Timeline-wise, it falls in this story, and I didn't want to just ignore it. But without the crisis over Lydia's tape, the content would obviously be very different, and probably not related to Lizzie's videos. In this story, the demo gives our characters a chance to relate to each other in a less stressful setting and start working out the issues they aren't yet tackling head-on. As for the story the demo ends up telling…well, whatever it might be, it will not be part of this story._

_FYI, I'm traveling for work next weekend and will be quite busy, so the next chapter will be posted two weeks from now (on April 18)._


	11. Whispering through you

**Chapter eleven: Whispering through you**

_Thursday, January 31_

Lizzie returned to her desk determined to stop procrastinating. She was making progress on her prospectus, but she was to the point where she needed to add information and excerpts from her interview with Darcy. And for that, she needed a transcript of it. There was a reason she'd saved that for last, and though she tried to convince herself that it was because transcribing was incredibly tedious, she knew that wasn't the whole reason.

Her marathons in the last week and a half had not actually covered all her videos. She had stopped after "How to Hold a Grudge," Lydia's final words ringing in her ears:

"So this makes what, Lizzie? Best friend, boyfriend, older sister, younger sister, all gone in what? Four months? My video was wrong. You _are_ good at something."

The words had stung at the time, leaving her for once without a quick comeback and reducing her to angry defensive muttering. Lydia was just being spiteful, she told herself more than once in the following days. She was not driving Lydia away—Lydia was the one throwing a tantrum because she couldn't handle a little well-meaning advice. Jane's move to L.A. had nothing to do with her, and Wickham's departure was good riddance. Sure, she had been wrong about Charlotte's decision to work for Ricky, but she had learned from that and apologized. Secure in her innocence from Lydia's accusation, she had eventually learned to ignore it.

That is, until she marathoned her videos. Her own words at the end of "Letter Analysis"—"So not only did I insult and reject Darcy, but I managed to drive him hundreds of miles away. That should be my new slogan. Lizzie Bennet: driving people away since the early 2010s"—had reminded her of Lydia's taunt, and this new disaster with Darcy had given it teeth. She might not have driven him to another city this time, but she had destroyed…well, whatever had been building between them these past weeks.

Which was why she had stopped her marathon before the Pemberley videos. She could not bear to see what she had thrown away, to put a name to what might have been.

But now…no more excuses. Lizzie armed herself with a cup of tea, opened a blank document, and rolled the footage.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Darcy stood and left the room. She had not typed a single word.

There had been a chance for them. He had cared for her still. She could see it now. The way his whole body stilled when she briefly touched his shoulder. His surprised pleasure when she called him a "young CEO" or showed how much Pemberley Digital impressed her. The way he watched her constantly—not like she was a traffic accident and he couldn't look away, but attentively, like he didn't _want_ to look away. The thoughtful way he answered her questions, elaborating and even asking her opinion when she showed particular interest in something. The fact he made time for their interview and never once checked his watch until they were done.

There had been a chance for them, for she could have cared for him too. She knew that now that it was too late. He was funny and intelligent and intense and caring and…and maybe exactly what she wanted and needed. They could have been happy together, could have brought out and honed each other's strengths.

There had been a chance for them. Past tense. Irrevocably past tense.

The footage was rolling again, but she barely registered it in her grief.

Darcy appeared to feel nothing for her now. It wasn't just that he no longer cared for her. Of course he didn't. But he seemed to feel nothing, period. None of the fury and pain he'd felt during their confrontation. No resentment. He had been all business the past few days. He asked for her help with Domino, weighed her input, treated her with the quiet respect he showed toward everyone at Pemberley, and that was it. All other feeling was buried impossibly deep within him.

It was preferable to open hatred, she supposed…or was it? If he'd kicked her out, she would have been back home by now, licking her wounds and trying to move on. Hanging around Pemberley like this—seeing him, talking to him, feeling her defenses crumble a little more with each encounter, feeling the hopelessness of it all deep in her bones—oh, it was unbearable!

"Lizzie?" Darcy interrupted from her doorway. "How are—oh." He stopped short at the sight of his own face on her screen.

"Oh!" she started, feeling her cheeks burning. She snapped her laptop shut. "Come in. I was just, um, making a transcript for my report."

"I see."

Darcy pulled up a chair, and when he met her gaze again she could see that he was serious and rather tense. She drew a deep, steadying breath as she looked at him. This was her reality now, a painful contrast to the lively interview she'd just watched.

"I have been watching your videos again."

Lizzie swallowed hard. That was an ominous beginning.

"I had not paid attention to the dates before, but I see you had a regular posting schedule."

She nodded, confused.

"Lizzie, you haven't posted anything in over a week. Why?"

He had to ask? Lizzie looked down, her hands fidgeting in her agitation. "I…I don't really feel like making videos right now."

"But you stopped so abruptly. Your viewers are nearly frantic with worry for you."

"Oh." Her viewers had been tweeting him for months. She should have known this would happen. "I tweeted that I'm taking an indefinite hiatus, and they're determined to find out why." Naturally, the most popular theory was that he had found her videos and forced her to stop. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry if they're bothering you. I can ask them to stop, but I'm not sure that will help."

He shook his head dismissively before asking, "Does that mean you will resume when you leave Pemberley?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure when I will."

His mouth compressed tightly as he studied her. "Lizzie, I do not mean to intrude, but it is obvious that your videos mean a great deal to you. Are you certain you wish to break away from them like this?"

_Yes!_ was her immediate, sharp thought. She could barely stand to look at her camera right now. She did miss her viewers, though. But…why was he doing this? He was certainly smart enough to put two and two together, so why was he being deliberately obtuse? "I just…I have to, okay?" she said tightly.

"Why?"

She frowned at him, and her voice biting with disbelief and frustration. "G-, do I really have to spell it out? You saw what I posted. Do you _want_ me to start making videos again?"

Darcy's eyes shadowed at her words, and for a moment he looked away from her, toward where her camera had been set up before.

"Any objective viewer can see that your videos are compelling, and excellently done. I do not want to be the reason you disrupt that," he said quietly. Then he fumbled in his suit pocket and held out his hand. "Here."

She eyed it warily for a moment, then gave a convulsive little snort. "_Another_ letter?"

His mouth tipped upward a little. "Not exactly." He watched her open it, then added, "It's a document clearing it with Legal for you to film your videos here. It covers those you've already filmed as well as any future videos."

Lizzie stared at the paper in her hand, glanced up at him, then sat staring at the paper again. The document was simple, less than one page, with fewer clauses and four-syllable legalese than she'd have expected. Far more incomprehensible was the man who'd given it to her. Why on earth would he do this?

She looked up at last to find him watching her cautiously. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "I don't know if I'll start vlogging again right now, but…thank you for this."

Darcy nodded, then rose. "Well, I will leave you to your transcription."

He was nearly to the door when her sudden "Wait!" brought him around to face her.

She skimmed the document again, searching for his name, but it wasn't there. Apparently he hadn't made it a condition, but he had to be wondering. She looked back up into those unfathomable blue eyes. "If I do, you don't need to worry. I won't show you or talk about you in them anymore."

He frowned. "That is not necessary."

She blinked. "It's not?" Darcy fidgeted a little and tucked his chin, but he didn't take back what he'd said. This was beyond belief. "You _want_ to be in my videos?"

"I am willing to appear in them, if you wish. But only if you wish."

"Oh. Well, um…I'll let you know." It was all she could manage.

He nodded again and was gone. Lizzie went to the door and followed him with her eyes until he disappeared into the stairwell. She closed the door then and slid down to sit with her back against it.

Nothing Darcy said or did made sense anymore. Nothing. He allowed her to stay at Pemberley. He watched her videos, apparently more than once. He praised them. He wanted her to keep filming despite what she'd done. He would allow her to film at Pemberley, allow her to film _him_ again.

It wasn't that she wasn't grateful. She was, truly she was. He was giving her so much—the opportunity to finish her independent study and thus graduate on time, the freedom to continue the videos on her own terms—everything she didn't deserve. But she had never been more confused.

Lizzie thumped her head lightly against the door a couple times, then grabbed her phone. No way could she figure this out alone.

Charlotte picked up on the third ring. "Hey stranger!"

"Hi! Are you busy?"

"I'm playing catch-up after going on an internet-free retreat in the middle of Game of Gourds production. I don't think I'll ever be un-busy. But I'm overdue for a break. How is Pemberley Digital?"

"It's a long story."

"…okay?" Charlotte said when she didn't go on.

Lizzie took a deep breath. "Darcy just volunteered to be in my videos, and I don't know what to do."

There was a long pause—Charlotte was apparently without words again—and then, "Okay, spill."

Twenty minutes and a dozen questions later, they were getting to the crux of the matter. "Do you want to start vlogging again?"

"I don't know! I…maybe?"

"Then why not do it? You said you were filming when Darcy came in—you could post that footage and then take it from there."

"I can't post that!"

"Why not? I understand why you didn't post it before, but now that he's volunteered to be in the videos, what's stopping you? You still have a contract with your viewers. They expect to see what's happening in your life, and this was huge."

"But that's part of what got me into this mess! Remember what I said to introduce the rejection video? I said the viewers would never forgive me if I didn't let them see him. What kind of stupid excuse was that?"

"But this isn't a video of you rejecting him."

"It's still personal, for him even more than for me," she insisted.

"Okay, it's personal," Charlotte conceded. "So what's the plan? Start posting again like nothing happened, and hope the viewers stop asking eventually?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "Maybe I should stay on hiatus a while longer."

"You can, if that's what you need. But I think it's going to be harder the longer you wait. And you're going to have to address it sometime. I mean, unless you pick a different thesis topic and delay graduation, you're going to have to spend a couple months analyzing the videos."

Lizzie swore under her breath. She didn't even want to think about that.

"Besides, I know you. Keeping all this inside has been eating you alive. Don't you think it might help to make some more videos and work things through?"

"Make them with Darcy?"

"With or without Darcy. Though since he volunteered, and he _is_ the person you need to talk to…".

"But…". She drew her up her knees and rested her head against them, curling in on herself. "What if I do it again?"

"Do what again?"

"Get carried away. Post something I shouldn't." _Hurt him._

"Lizzie, listen to what you've been saying. You've learned from this. You're so worried about it that you're going to be super careful. You'll be fine."

Lizzie bit her lip. "Maybe."

"Darcy must think so too, or he wouldn't be giving you a second chance with your videos."

"I have no idea what he's thinking," she burst out piteously. "He _doesn't_ give second chances, and—."

"Says who?"

"He did, at Netherfield."

That gave Charlotte pause, but not for long. "Well, maybe he's changed his mind. It sounds like he's changed a lot since then. I mean, what other explanation is there? He's not being nice to you because he secretly hates you."

"Well…".

"Come on, don't make me remind you of all our conversations about him last summer. And last fall."

"I know, I know. I misjudged pretty much everything about him. But…I don't know. Maybe he's still upset but feels obligated to be nice because I"—_because I kept Gigi's secret_, she almost said, but remembered at the last second that Charlotte didn't know about that—"because I'm at his company. Or maybe he's just trying to be the bigger person or…or get all this out of his system. He said he watches my videos 'objectively' now."

"Okay, yeah, that's confusing."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, all I can say is, you need to talk to him. On or off camera."

They talked a little longer, and Lizzie laughed sympathetically at the team-building activities Ricky had invented for the company retreat. It felt good to reconnect with her best friend, and it was too soon when Charlotte ended the call to get back to work.

Their parting words haunted Lizzie into the weekend.

"Let me know how it goes with Darcy."

"I don't know. Maybe I should just wait and see if he says anything next time I see him. He might change his mind about being in my videos."

Charlotte sighed. "Lizzie, you remember when you used to play tennis?"

"Yeah, but what's that—?"

"Then you should understand the concept that the ball is in your court."

Charlotte was right, she decided at last. The ball was in her court.

%%%

_I mentioned a few chapters ago that the biggest question I faced when beginning to write this story was whether Darcy could forgive Lizzie for posting video of him and lying to him about it, and whether he could eventually trust her again. When writing the current group of chapters, that question turned inward-what would it take for Lizzie to forgive herself for hurting Darcy (and other people, but he's at the forefront in this scenario), and trust herself again? She's not there yet, but these conversations with Darcy and then with Charlotte are important steps. I would love to hear your thoughts on this!_


	12. Take the chance

_The power outage described in this chapter did actually happen during Super Bowl XLVII. Play was interrupted for 34 minutes._

%%%

**Chapter twelve: Take the chance**

_Sunday, February 3_

The doorbell rang during the second commercial break.

"That'll be Lizzie," Fitz said as he headed out of the living room and toward the entryway. He was glad she'd finally made it—she had texted Gigi to say she was running late, but that hadn't stopped Darcy from glancing at the door at least once a minute for the last half hour.

"Sorry I'm late," she said as soon as he opened the door. "I was finally catching up with Jane and lost track of time, and then there was a huge line at the store, and then I missed my bus."

"Not a problem, Lizzie. It happens to the best of us." He watched as she did an awkward sideways hop while tugging off her boots.

"Thanks for letting Gigi invite me."

"Sure thing."

She began to rummage through her backpack…then, suddenly, stopped and took a deep breath. "Fitz, I owe you an apology," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have made you promise not to tell Darcy about my videos. Not knowing about them ended up hurting him a lot, and I'm really sorry I put you in that position."

Fitz studied her for a long moment. "Thank you," he said slowly. For himself, he could forgive her. He could see from the videos that she hadn't meant to use him to hurt Darcy.

But still, Darcy had been hurt. Badly. Again. And while Fitz wasn't going to hold a grudge against her when Darcy clearly didn't, and while he probably liked her more than he should, considering what she'd done, he couldn't help feeling uneasy and protective of his friend.

"I've gotta be honest," he finally said. "Darcy doesn't let it show much, but he's been walking wounded most of the time I've known him. You know some of it now, but not all. Just, please…_please_ don't hurt him any more."

Her eyes were glistening even before he finished speaking. "I would do anything to avoid that," she said, quietly but with a fierce sincerity.

Fitz nodded. "Then we're good, Lizzie B," he said, his usual grin back in place. "Now, let me take that," he took the bag of cookies from her and deposited it in the kitchen as they passed, "and introduce you to these guys."

There were five of them, two from his work and the others from the gym, and Lizzie repeated each name after she shook their hands. Fitz settled into his recliner then and watched as Lizzie smiled warmly at Gigi and Brandon, who she was seeing for the first time since Collins &amp; Collins. Then she looked to Darcy, and her smile faltered a little. His greeting was restrained compared to the others', but it was apparently enough for her. Lizzie gingerly seated herself in the open space between him and Brandon on the couch.

Fitz grinned again. Darcy wasn't going to pay a bit of attention to the game.

%%%

It was almost halftime, and Darcy's frustration was rapidly intensifying. So was that of the rest of the room, for that matter—the Ravens had just taken a 21-3 lead over the 49ers, producing a round of groans and some creative curses—but his frustration had nothing to do with the score and everything to do with his inability to communicate with the woman at his side.

Lizzie had been quiet all night. Not in an unfriendly way, but unmistakably nevertheless. He had hoped for better. He had thought she might be more comfortable in a social setting. He had been thrilled when she responded to his unspoken invitation and sat next to him. The excitement and energy in the room for the game only fed his own anticipation. Yet as the afternoon unfolded, her tension became increasingly clear. He'd caught her looking at him several times, worrying her lower lip with her teeth, but she just shook her head when he asked if something was wrong. Had they been alone—had he the right to simply take her hand and draw her into another room or even outside for a walk—perhaps she would have given him a real answer. As it was, with so many others around, it seemed hopeless even to attempt to speak on neutral topics. So she sat there quietly, tantalizing him with the subtle floral scent of her shampoo and consuming a rather alarming amount of avocado.

It was either the football game or him. As this had been going on for days, he knew it had to be him.

Darcy had no idea what he was doing where Lizzie was concerned. His plan, such as it was, did not seem to be doing any good. He had planned to answer her apology with a much-needed one of his own. Having extended forgiveness and hopefully obtaining hers, he would attempt to break the ice and see if she was open to further communication with him. Gigi's worry about the demo had proved useful in that regard.

Beyond that, he wasn't sure. He wanted to talk to Lizzie about what had happened, but not while things were like this, when half the time she still looked like she thought he might bite her head off. He had questions he wanted to ask her—although fewer now than before, as her decision to go on hiatus and her responses when he asked her about it had dispelled all remaining doubt about her trustworthiness—but he could not bear to question her when she would enter the conversation as one facing a tribunal. So instead, he tried to show her by every kindness in his power that he did not resent the past, and waited for her tension to ease, for that awful trepidation to stop filling her eyes when she saw him.

He waited, and feared the worst. That he had overstepped himself when he pressed her about resuming her videos. That his offer to appear in them made her feel he was somehow constraining her. That there could be no future for them. That she was counting the hours until she could return home and be free of him and this whole situation.

Halftime.

Darcy returned from the bathroom to find the living room half-empty. Lizzie stood in a far corner of the room examining a bookshelf and was taking down one of the books when she met his gaze. The book was thick, and he was wondering what had caught her interest, when Fitz interrupted his thoughts by calling out that the pizza was now in the oven. He glanced to the kitchen to see several of the men milling around there, sampling the wine while they waited. Fitz's supreme pizza had a well-deserved reputation.

Lizzie was flipping through the book now. Darcy longed to join her but doubted she would welcome his presence. He remembered how she had retreated to her room to film a video during Lydia's party, how she had expressed her preference then for solitude and a book. She had been on edge all afternoon, and he would be selfish to intrude on her peace.

He glanced around the rest of the room. Brandon and Gigi were in another corner, bent over a sheet of paper while Brandon sketched out and explained a football strategy. The other two men sat before the TV, where the halftime show was just beginning. Darcy reluctantly returned to his seat and looked at the screen in mild surprise. Apparently Beyoncé was the name of a person and not of a musical group.

Well whoever she was, she did not interest him. Darcy listened for a minute, then pulled out his phone and applied himself to his email inbox. Yes, the afternoon he had so anticipated had come to this.

Eventually, the singing stopped and the pizza was done. Darcy went to the kitchen for a slice, and when he returned he was surprised to see that Lizzie had returned to her spot on the couch. He had thought she would sit elsewhere.

"—a volume of Shakespeare's histories," she was saying to Brandon.

"Which one were you reading?"

"Richard III."

"Ah yes. 'My kingdom for a touchdown!'" Brandon cried, extending his arms theatrically toward the TV. Lizzie smiled a little and rolled her eyes.

Darcy looked wistfully at her profile as he resumed his seat. So it was Shakespeare she had been perusing in the corner. He would have loved to peruse Shakespeare with her and debate his skill as a dramatist. He had tried that once before as a conversation gambit, months ago, but then Wickham had arrived to spoil the moment. Darcy frowned at the memory and took a bite of his pizza.

The desired touchdown was not to be…or rather, it was the wrong team who scored it. Within seconds of the start of the second half, the Ravens went ahead 28-6. The 49ers got the ball back…

And then the lights went out. Not in the condo, but at the game. Most of the stadium was now in the dark. Comments immediately swirled.

"Whoa!"

"What happened?"

"At least it didn't happen during a play."

"Gosh, I hope this isn't some terrorist thing."

"Probably not," Brandon said. "This happened during one of our games a year or two ago. Took the lights like 20 minutes to get back on and warmed up, but no harm done."

Twenty minutes. Great. Two of the guys decided to head home since the game appeared out of reach. The others were just waiting it out and eating when Fitz reached for the remote.

"Hey, I know! Let's replay the halftime show while we wait. We couldn't hear all of it from the kitchen."

Darcy stifled a groan and a complaint. He could think of few things less appealing than sitting through that show again. But Lizzie was looking up at him, and he was not about to complain about popular music in front of her again.

The strobe lights came on the screen, and the music started. Darcy finished his pizza while the first song played, then rose to carry his plate to the kitchen. He grabbed the empty avocado bowl from the coffee table as he went. He might as well make himself useful to Lizzie while he avoided the rest of show.

He was removing the pit from the second avocado when she came to him.

"I…um…th-the pizza smelled good," she stammered.

"There are a few slices left," he replied, gesturing to the stove.

"Oh. Good."

He had just picked up the knife when she spoke again.

"Darcy?" The tremor in her voice immediately brought his eyes to hers. She breathed deep, then blurted, "Wereyouseriousaboutbeinginmyvideos?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation even as the import of her question made his heart beat quick. "You plan to resume vlogging?"

"I think so. I've been talking to Charlotte and Jane and…I miss it." She leaned against the counter across from him, then picked up a piece of avocado and began fiddling with it. "If I do, I need to tell my viewers why I stopped." Her eyes flew wide open as soon as she finished speaking, and she began to backpedal furiously. "C-, I didn't mean it that way! I _know_ I don't owe them the details, and you…y-you definitely don't owe them _anything_. I just meant that—."

"You have worked hard to establish a rapport with your viewers, and that is weakened if you abandon your transparency or disrupt the flow of your story with no explanation."

"Yes," she said, looking intensely relieved. "A-and that means explaining that you found out about my videos."

"All right."

"So…how should I do that?"

He blinked. "However you think best. I do not want to dictate the content of your videos."

"I know," she said, her voice softening, "but this is personal for you. I want you to have a say in how I do it."

Darcy's hand trembled as he laid down the knife. Lizzie's openness and concern for his feelings packed a powerful punch. He paused to gather his thoughts, and recalled that she had opened the conversation by asking if he was truly willing to be in the videos. Did that mean…"You usually seem to prefer showing to telling. Were you thinking of a costume theater reenactment or the actual footage, or did you have something else in mind?"

Her jaw dropped. "I didn't mean…seriously? You're okay with me posting that footage?"

It was a question he was prepared for. He had known, when he suggested she resume vlogging, that this might happen. And while he wasn't entirely thrilled at the prospect of releasing that video, his decision was made.

"Yes."

"But then won't Gigi find out…how you found out about them?"

"Hearing of him in your videos did not distress her as I thought it might," he admitted, warmed still further by Lizzie's concern for his sister. "If you decide to post the footage, I will speak with her and ensure that she is not surprised."

"Okay, I'll upload the video tomorrow morning, at my usual time. Unless…". She bit her lip. "Maybe we could watch it first? That way I can edit out anything you, um, don't like."

"That is…". _Not necessary_, he was going to say, but reconsidered. He was not about to turn down an opportunity to spend time with her. And perhaps it would do them good to face this. "That is agreeable to me. When shall we do this?"

"It would have to be tonight or first thing in the morning if I'm going to post tomorrow. Th-that's not important, though. Obviously. I can post Thursday. Or whenever."

"Tonight is fine."

They settled the details, and then Lizzie finally sampled the pizza. To Darcy's surprise, she stayed in the kitchen to eat, leaning against the counter and munching quietly. He hid a smile when her motive became clear, as she stole pieces of avocado to garnish her slice.

Hopeful cheers from the living room eventually prompted them to return. The 49ers rallied for a time but ultimately lost the game.

Darcy could not have cared less.

%%%

_Why avocado? Well, apparently Fitz had plenty of them on hand for planned Super Bowl party*. And, incidentally, Ashley Clements loves avocado, to the point that her Twitter bio used to mention it._

_More seriously…Lizzie has decided to resume vlogging. I would love to hear your thoughts on her decision! I always respond to comments (providing you're logged in…)._

_* pemberleydigital dot com /super-bowl-sunday/_


	13. No more shadows

**Chapter thirteen: No more shadows**

_Sunday, February 3_

Gigi bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smile. William had announced that he would drop her at her condo before taking Lizzie to the apartment she was house-sitting, a route that would take him miles out of his way. Any excuse for a little more time with Lizzie was clearly the plan.

She didn't know exactly what, but something had happened between them in the kitchen earlier. They were just as quiet afterward as they had been all afternoon, but it was different. She could tell. And she couldn't stop the little bursts of excitement rippling through her. She wanted her brother's happiness more than anything.

They were at a stoplight now, not far from her condo. William locked eyes with Lizzie in the rearview mirror—wow, apparently they did nonverbal communication now—before clearing his throat.

"Gigi, there is something you should know."

That was his serious tone of voice. Gigi's forehead furrowed as she looked over at his profile.

"I learned of Lizzie's videos from George Wickham."

"What?" she gasped. "But I thought…o-or I guess I just assumed you found them yourself."

"I know. I allowed you to assume what you would."

"He just called you and…and said there were videos?"

"No. He came to my office."

"He was at Pemberley?" Her voice held just the slightest tremor.

"Not for long," William said succinctly.

Her imagination was flooding with horrible ideas. "What did he say?"

"He quoted some of my words, and some of Lizzie's," he said, his eyes fixed on the road before them. "He said little that was categorically false, but twisted everything to give it the worst possible construction."

Gigi shuddered. "No wonder you were so upset." She glanced over her shoulder at Lizzie, who was looking down at her hands with a painful expression, then reached over to touch his arm. "Are you okay?"

He exhaled before answering, "I will be." He gave her a reassuring smile, then continued. "Lizzie is going to post a video tomorrow that shows a…confrontation between us on this subject. I did not wish you to be caught off guard."

"Oh." Knowing his penchant for understatement, she hated to think what a "confrontation" must have been like.

They pulled up to her building then, and she made to open her door.

"Gigi, wait," William said, touching her shoulder. "Are _you_ okay? Would you like us to stay for a while?"

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I'll be fine."

"I'll walk up with you," Lizzie said. She waited until the car doors were shut and they were a few feet away before saying, "Are you sure you're okay? I know we kind of dumped this on you."

"I'm just mad."

Several steps passed before she said, "I understand, and I-I'm sorry. Wickham would have been out of your lives for good if not for me."

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Gigi quickly reassured her. "I'm mad at _him_, because…because it wasn't enough that he hurt me and used me to hurt William and our relationship, he had to use you to hurt him too, and your relationship. And this time he—."

"Gigi, that's not the same," Lizzie said firmly. "I made wrong decisions that were going to hurt your brother whether or not Wickham did anything. You just trusted someone who said he cared for you. That is nothing to be ashamed of."

Gigi took a deep breath. "I know. But…I mean, what did he get out of this anyway? He didn't get money this time, or a place to live for a while, or…or anything. All he got was some demented pleasure from hurting William as much as he could. How can anyone be that cruel?"

"I don't know," Lizzie said, looking down.

They were at Gigi's door now. "Are you sure I can't stay for a cup of tea? You know your brother won't mind waiting."

She shook her head firmly. "I'm fine, really. I just need some time to think. And I have some homework to do."

"Okay. But…promise you'll call Fitz or Darcy or-or me if you need to talk?"

"Promise. And I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for the Domino recording session." They hugged before Lizzie left.

%%%

Darcy twirled the string of his tea bag absently between his fingers as he waited for Lizzie to return. She had deposited him on the loveseat in the living room and was now in another room rummaging for her camera.

She was so quiet again. The brief respite they'd shared earlier while discussing his appearance in her videos had ended. She had hardly spoken after returning to the car. He thought he understood why. Gigi had taken the news even better than he'd expected—perhaps, he thought not for the first time, she was stronger than he gave her credit for—but such a conversation was necessarily painful for all of them. And there was no telling what she'd said to Lizzie after they left the car.

Lizzie returned and set up her laptop on the coffee table, then perched on the edge of the other cushion, her camera case in her hands. She fumbled a bit as she opened the case, almost dropping it.

"Lizzie, are you all right?"

Her hands stilled, and she took a deep breath. "Yeah. I just haven't watched this footage before, that's all."

Darcy mentally called himself every kind of fool. The confrontation in that footage had reduced her to tears, distressed her to the point that she'd stopped vlogging for a time. Why had he not considered how much this would upset her?

"We don't have to do this," he said quickly, helplessly. "I should not have suggested it."

She shook her head. "It's okay," she said, looking up from the camera in her lap to meet his gaze. "But…Darcy, I am so, so sorry for all of this."

Darcy's heart was in physical pain as he looked into her strained, contrite face. "Lizzie, I know that," he said, as gently as he knew how. "You said that in your letter and in person and have been proving it in everything you do."

"So…you do believe me?"

_Yes_, he was about to say, but he was beginning to realize that she needed more than just a bald statement of fact. "I did not know what to believe, at first." She looked down, her face pinching a little. He plunged on. "But then I watched your videos. Doing so allowed me to…to see from your point of view, and begin to understand you better. And the more I understood, the more I could believe you."

She bit her lip. "You understood?"

Darcy exhaled slowly. Watching her videos had been an intensely personal experience, one difficult and uncomfortable to reduce to words. But for Lizzie, he would try. "I could see how important your videos are to you—how much delight and life you impart to them, how you really are telling a story. I saw that you had reason to think of me as you did, and that you lied to me about them because you feared I would retaliate. I saw…I saw your own journey these past months. It took courage to share that journey so openly."

Lizzie's eyes were fixed on him as he spoke. She hardly even blinked, so intent did she seem on absorbing his meaning. "It wasn't just because you might sue me, you know. You were so…subdued when you brought your letter. I guess I didn't want to add insult to injury." She gave a mirthless laugh. "Instead, I ended up adding injury to injury."

He did not know what to say to that.

"What did he say to you?"

He did not have to ask who she meant. And he had no intention of getting into specifics. "You already know the gist of it. There is no need to subject yourself to hearing every last spiteful detail."

"_You_ heard it. I need to know. Please."

Darcy resisted, frowning, but could not deny her. He relayed it all—the words Wickham had quoted, his insinuations about her motives, everything. And as much as he hated repeating Wickham's words and giving him even the smallest foothold in this conversation with Lizzie, he also found a certain odd comfort in speaking of what had happened.

Lizzie shivered a little when he finished. "It's sickening how much of it was true."

"Twisting the truth is a particular talent of his. You are not to blame for that, or for his vindictiveness in coming to me."

She nodded hesitantly before saying, "What he said about using the…the rejection video to make myself famous—that's not true. I know how it looks, and I know I posted that video for really stupid reasons, but it wasn't about exploiting you to get more viewers. It never was, and"—she lifted her camera case slightly—"it won't be."

"I thought as much, or I would not have offered myself for your videos. But I appreciate your reassurance, nevertheless," he added. His words had come out more bluntly than intended, and the last thing he wanted to do was discourage this developing accord between them.

She searched his face for long moments before squaring her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Darcy. Sorry I let you find out that way instead of owning up to it myself. Sorry there was anything for you to find out in the first place."

It was no miserable, cringing apology this time. This time, it was the apology of a woman who believed he could forgive her. And he did. "I forgive you, Lizzie," he said gently. "For everything."

The tears came then. Darcy pulled out his handkerchief again, and she accepted it with a whispered "thank you" that he knew extended beyond a mere square of fabric. He ran his hand from her shoulder to her back, rubbing her soothingly, the sweet relief of reconciliation making him fight tears of his own. Lizzie leaned into him a little as she cried, and he rested his chin against her hair, wishing he never had to let her go.

He did have to, though. Soon enough she dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose, and he reluctantly forced himself to lean back and reach for his tea.

"It looks like I have more laundry to do," she said shakily, setting his handkerchief aside.

His mouth tipped upward. He hoped that meant she would come by his office to return it, as she had before. "There is no rush. I have plenty."

Lizzie glanced at him and smiled. Then she looked down at the case in her lap. "Okay, let's do this."

_To be continued…_

%%%

_I really appreciate each person who has taken time to leave feedback on the story so far. You are all so encouraging, and I thank you! I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter._


	14. Something pulling in the air

**Chapter fourteen: Something pulling in the air**

_Sunday, February 3_

Lizzie fiddled with the camera and then with her laptop until her face appeared on the screen. She skipped ahead a little to show his entrance.

Multiple marathons of her videos had not completely inured him to watching himself on film, particularly not a scene such as this. Darcy paid his video self as little attention as possible, focusing instead on Lizzie's image. The pleasing lilt in her voice as she welcomed him to her office quickly disappeared, replaced by guilt and rising distress as she attempted to explain what she'd done.

Then came the moment when his torment overpowered him, when reserve and discretion were thrown to the wind and his deepest fears about her motives burst forth in a spate of harsh questions. He had feared, even assumed, the worst—unavoidably perhaps given the circumstances—but oh, how he wished he had not subjected her to this! Her denials increased in desperation, and then…she flinched.

It was the moment he most dreaded and needed to see. He leaned forward a little unconsciously, searching her face as his video self moved out of the frame. She had since assured him that she had not felt physically threatened, to his profound relief. But nevertheless, his anger had badly shaken her, and he had still a mental image of her cringing away from him, expecting him to turn at any moment and continue lacerating her with his words.

Except she was not cringing. Not afraid. She leaned toward him when he moved away, her eyes remaining fixed on him all the eternal seconds until he turned back toward her. Her face crumpled slowly as she watched him, her guilt mingling with…grief, perhaps, and some other emotion that he couldn't put a name to.

Darcy looked from her video self to the woman beside him, and found her watching him with flushed cheeks and a questioning look. Apparently his close scrutiny had embarrassed her. "It is good to see for myself that you were not afraid of me," he said to explain his fixation.

"Of course not," she said firmly. "Even at my worst, I knew you weren't like that."

"Good."

His video self was pacing behind her now in agitation, and at length she emerged from his handkerchief long enough to reach for the camera. The screen went black.

Darcy drained the last of his tea as Lizzie fiddled with her laptop again. Watching himself ask her about his friends' presence in her videos reminded him…"Bing called last week. He said you'd called him."

"Oh. Yeah, I owed him an apology too, for letting him think my videos were letters to Charlotte." She sat back against the cushions, angling herself somewhat to face him. "It didn't sound like he'd watched any of them when I talked to him."

"He had when he called me."

"Really? Did he say anything about Jane? I-I mean, anything that you can tell me?"

He shook his head. "We did not speak of her. He called to inform me of your videos. I gather he had watched only enough to become concerned at my apparent ignorance."

"Oh."

That was a cryptic response. Darcy waited a moment, then explained, "I did not think I should volunteer any observations about your sister."

Lizzie frowned. "You mean...because you still don't trust her?"

"No, because Bing knows about the videos now, and has access to all the information I do. His decision needs to be his own, as you said to him."

"But…you realize now that you didn't need to protect him from her?"

"I believe now that there must have been an innocent explanation, and regret having caused her pain, but…Lizzie, I found her kissing another man. I had no choice but to inform him."

"_What?!_"

Her tone of utter shock took him aback. "She didn't tell you? I do not think she saw me at the time, but she must have suspected what I meant by her 'indiscretion.'"

"She never said anything." She drew back and shook her head. "I know my sister, and she wouldn't do that to Bing!"

Darcy grew painfully tense. Was she about to accuse him of lying about this, as she had last fall? He didn't think he could bear that, not now, not when they were only just starting to move past the slew of misunderstandings and wrongs between them. He understood that she was just defending her sister—goodness knew how he would react if someone accused Gigi of this—but oh, how he wished that he hadn't brought up the subject of Bing!

"Are you _sure_ it wasn't just someone who looked like her?"

"I shared a house with both of you for a month," he reminded her quietly. "It was she. I wish now that I had seen nothing, but I know what I saw."

He braced himself then, but the dreaded words did not come. Lizzie was still frowning deeply, but she exhaled slowly and nodded. "Maybe one of the guys got drunk and cornered her?"

"That is possible," he said, relief suffusing through him. She believed him.

"She said Bing was cryptic the one time she talked to him. I guess…I guess he didn't tell her what you'd seen, or wouldn't believe what she told him?"

"I do not know what they spoke of. But perhaps she also expected him to give her an opportunity to explain before breaking off the relationship?"

"You mean like you—." She broke off suddenly. "Uh, l-like you said, it's Bing's decision now."

He nodded, pleased that they had reached agreement.

Some moments of thoughtful silence passed before he ventured, "I have been wondering…why did you film your videos at Pemberley rather than here?

Lizzie tilted her head. "You mean, how did I ever think I'd get away with it?"

"I would not put it in such accusatory terms," he said carefully.

"It's okay—I've asked myself the same thing," she assured him. "I…I didn't mean to film them all at Pemberley Digital."

Darcy's brows drew together in confusion. One could not accidentally film a series of videos.

"I mean, when I came to San Francisco, I wasn't planning to show Pemberley in my videos—or at least not much. I didn't show anything while shadowing Gracechurch Street, even though I recorded some of those interviews. And I definitely wasn't planning to show you again."

"But you did not wish to film alone?" he suggested.

"That was part of it. I filmed at Pemberley that first day, and everything was so…unexpected. So I kept filming there, and…I don't know, the footage seemed to fit, and my viewers wanted to see you, and—and it felt _right_ to let them see who you really are. Even though it obviously wasn't right."

"I appreciate that motive nevertheless." He arched an eyebrow. "Your videos explain why our web traffic has surged in the last month."

Lizzie tilted her head, considering. "Um…you're welcome?"

"Indeed." Then, seeing her so relaxed, he went on, his tone casual. "I have also been wondering…would you ever have told me about them, if not for Wickham?"

"I don't know," she said slowly, drawing her legs up under her. "I knew I _should_, but I don't know if I would have had the guts to just…say it. I was starting to think I could make it through my independent study without you finding out, and then maybe you'd never have to know about them."

So even after getting to know him at Pemberley, she had not been thinking in terms of a potential future for them. Did that also mean that she did not _want_ any future with him, that her openness to him now was merely an outgrowth of her regret for hurting him? His hopes, which had been cautiously growing since the afternoon, wilted now with his uncertainty. But they did not die. After all, she was still here, in San Francisco, and they were still here, sitting almost shoulder to shoulder and communicating with a directness and an intimacy he had only ever dreamed about. Was that not reason for a little hope?

"Well," he said at length, "Despite everything, I am glad that I know about them now."

Lizzie's eyes widened. "Me too," she said quietly, then asked, "Are you still okay with posting this footage? I can edit out anything you want, or even post something different."

He shook his head. "There is no need to edit any of it on my account. I knew at the time what you were filming."

"But…that's not the only criteria for what I should or shouldn't post!"

"Actually, it is, where I am concerned. As long as I know you are filming, you are free to show whatever you wish." He could always decline to talk about something if he wanted it to be private. Lizzie's eyes widened at his statement. He realized belatedly that she could misinterpret it to mean he thought she would stoop so low as to use hidden cameras, and regretted his choice of words, but fortunately she did not seem offended.

Instead, her lips began to twitch. "So, no secret cameras rolling while you dice up avocados. Got it."

His eyes widened. "People would watch that?"

"_My_ viewers? Yeah, they'd probably eat it up. Well, obviously not literally."

Now he knew she was pulling his leg. "So they would eat up the footage and you would eat up the avocado?"

Lizzie giggled at that, an action made even more endearing when she stifled it and pretended to look sternly at him. "Maybe, but so what? I _like_ avocado!"

"I noticed," he said, smiling a little. It was wonderful beyond words to see that happy spark in her eyes again.

"Do you need anything from me in order to post your video tomorrow?"

Lizzie sipped her tea and tilted her head in thought. "I don't think so. I'll just film a short intro for it."

"So that you include your tagline?"

"Yeah, and also so my viewers don't completely freak out. I turned the camera off before you said I could stay at Pemberley. An intro, clearly filmed afterward but still in my office…".

Darcy raised his eyebrows. He hadn't thought of that, but then again Lizzie was a natural storyteller. "Less emotional impact than a pure cliffhanger, but added ambiguity to create narrative tension."

"Exactly." She smiled at him and hardly even hesitated before adding, "I can't leave it there, though. Will you be in my next video too?"

"Gladly." And ironic as it was, he meant it.

%%%

_Can you imagine if Lizzie had actually gone to Pemberley Digital without Darcy knowing about her videos (as Bernie Su originally planned)? If all we viewers watched that arc on pins and needles, not knowing when/if the truth would come out? In LBD, we got to savor the Pemberley arc, but with the ominous backdrop of Lydia's videos with Wickham. In this AU, the developing train wreck is in Lizzie's videos instead. I know I would have enjoyed the Pemberley videos much less in that scenario. And then if Lizzie went on hiatus...and then posted this video?_


	15. As you are

**Chapter fifteen: As you are**

_Monday, February 4_

At precisely 9:00 a.m., Lizzie uploaded "Consequences." It began:

"You know how sometimes you do something wrong, and you know deep down that it's wrong, but you keep doing it because…well, it's fun, and it's not hurting anyone, and it seems like you're getting away with it? And then something awful happens and makes you realize that…that your judgment was totally screwed up, that you actually _were_ hurting people, a lot, and you're a horrible person for doing that? Well…yeah.

"It has been two weeks since I posted a video. I know I went on hiatus without any warning or explanation, and I apologize for that. A lot of you have been worried about me—actually, I've been blown away by all your messages of support. You guys are amazing, and I can't thank you enough! As for those of you who offered to 'take care of' whoever made me stop filming…that's, well, kind of terrifying. It's also not necessary. I went on hiatus because of _me_.

"My name is Lizzie Bennet, and I'm going to show you why I stopped vlogging."

After the title sequence came the unedited footage of the confrontation with Darcy, from the moment he knocked at her door to the moment she turned off her camera. Her theme music was not repeated at the end; instead, the video ended in silence.

%%%

Darcy returned from an early morning off-site meeting to the delightful sight of Lizzie also approaching his office.

"Hey! I just came to return this," she said, holding out his handkerchief with a shy smile that transfixed him. Shy wasn't a look he'd seen on her before.

"Thank you." He wanted to say something more substantive, but even after all they'd worked through last night, it was hard to know what to say to her in the cold light of day.

She hesitated for a moment, then started to back away. "Well, I'm sure you're busy. I'll see you at the Domino meeting tomorrow."

"Wait," he blurted. "Um…do you want tea? I'm going to get some coffee."

"Oh. Sure."

Lizzie waited while he left his things in his office, then walked with him toward the employee lounge. Fortunately, it did not take long for him to recover his wits. "Have you posted the video yet?"

"Yeah, I always post at 9 a.m."

"And the response?"

"Over a thousand comments in the first hour," she said with a wry smile. "Apparently some of my viewers are now 'dead.'"

He raised an eyebrow. "Is such hyperbole typical?"

"For the videos you're in, yeah." At his look, she shrugged. "Like I said, they've always loved you."

Darcy looked away, wistful and uncomfortable. It was not her viewers' affection that he craved.

"But most of the comments are serious," she continued. "There are a lot of people asking if I'm okay, and if you're okay. Some I-told-you-so's, and rampant speculation about what happened after I turned the camera off and, um, about why I posted this video."

"Some of it unkind?" he asked, reading between the lines.

"It's the internet," she replied, matter-of-fact. "And it's a fair question, as far as they know—why would I stop filming after getting caught posting personal footage of you and then resume filming by posting even more?"

A fair question, yes, but Lizzie's viewers were important to her, and he did not like to see them doubting her motives. "Would you like me to state in the next video that I have given my consent and suggested posting today's video?"

"You mean like, 'My name is William Darcy, and I approve this video?'"

Darcy's lips twitched. She had used the deep monotone so familiar from previous costume theater scenes, but without her usual harsh intonation. "Well, um, perhaps something that makes me sound less like a lordly politician."

Lizzie smiled. "Actually, just seeing you in the video is probably enough. But I'll think about it."

"All right," he said. "And speaking of which…I know you don't always have a, um, predetermined structure, but what do you have in mind for that video?"

"I'd like to show them some of what's happened since then."

"You mean our apologies to each other?" He tried to say it evenly, but inwardly he balked at the thought of reenacting their conversation from the night before, and hoped he was not about to disappoint her.

"No, I…I think those are private."

He exhaled, relieved, and Lizzie briefly described what she had in mind. "Sound okay to you?"

It sounded more than okay, and he assured her of his agreement.

They had reached the lounge. Lizzie paused in the doorway. "It feels really good to be vlogging again," she said with another shy smile. "Thank you. You've been amazingly nice about this."

Darcy felt a pleased flush rising up his neck, and ducked his chin out of habit. "Nice" wasn't the most romantic of adjectives, to be sure, but this was the woman who'd once said that calling him nice made an angel lose its wings. "Amazingly nice," with her standing so near and smiling at him in that way, was definitely progress. "I am glad to see you doing something you enjoy," he finally replied.

Once inside, Darcy prepared his coffee—the in-house barista, as well as most of his employees, had taken advantage of the optional holiday* in honor of the Super Bowl—while Lizzie poked through the tea selection. Drinks in hand, he then led them to a table near the window, removed from the lounge's few other inhabitants.

"Can I ask you something?" she said after contemplating her tea for a long moment.

"Of course."

"How much does it bother you that Wickham will probably watch today's video?"

Darcy's brow contracted as he studied her. This was the second time in as many days that she had asked about Wickham. He wondered if Gigi had said something to her last night. "I do not like the thought, naturally," he said slowly, "but I am not as troubled by it as you might imagine."

"Oh. That's…good, I guess."

He turned his mug around in his hands. "I do not like giving him the pleasure of seeing that he shook me, and induced me to—to distress you. But there is some satisfaction in knowing that if he does watch this video and the next, he will see that he won the battle but lost the war, so to speak."

She nodded her understanding, then said, "Look, I know you feel bad about losing your temper, but it's okay and totally understandable that you did. It—it's actually probably a good thing."

He frowned. "Lizzie, you stopped filming. You…weren't yourself. Clearly, I went too far."

She shook her head firmly. "I didn't go on hiatus because of you. I did it because of _me_."

"Of course. I did not mean to imply—."

"I know you didn't. But what I'm trying to say is…none of the other red flags made me change what I was doing. It took you confronting me and then me marathoning my videos for me to see how unethically I'd been acting and that I could _hurt_ people with them. I'm glad that happened. I—I mean, I'm not glad _this_ happened. I hate that I hurt you and…everything. I just…". She sighed. "That probably doesn't make any sense."

"No, I think I understand. I feel the same way about…last fall."

Her eyes widened. "You're glad I rejected you?"

Never. But…"I think it was necessary, and for the best. Like you, I had ignored other warning signs. I set high standards for myself, but observed them with pride and without respect for those I decided didn't measure up. I would still, if you had not called me out. I too wish I had corrected my behavior to prevent your bearing the brunt of it, but…it is good that I was finally motivated to change."

Lizzie nodded when he finished. "Well, I'm glad _some_ good has come out of all this."

"Indeed."

Silence fell momentarily. Lizzie was contemplating her tea again, and Darcy enjoyed the opportunity to observe her in person without making her uncomfortable. His gaze was tracing the delicate turn of her ear and the smooth planes of her profile when he saw her mouth twist a little.

"What is it?" he asked impulsively.

She looked up. "I was just thinking," she said, running her hand over her face, "that there has to be an easier way to do this."

"To recognize our wrong behavior?" She nodded, and his own mouth contorted. "One can only hope."

There was another long pause. Then, "Well, I should get back to work."

Darcy rose too, walking with her from the lounge toward her office. Not wanting to part from her on such a somber note, he asked in a lighter tone, "How is your independent study progressing? Do you have all the information you need?"

She nodded. "I'm writing it up now."

"Do you still follow the framework you described in your videos?"

"Yes," she said, and at his questioning look went on to summarize her working outline.

Darcy listened with increasing enjoyment. After spending so many hours analyzing her work in her videos, it was gratifying to know that she was examining his work with the same thoughtful attention, even though it was a school requirement that she do so. He could have groaned when beeping from his phone interrupted the end of her explanation, reminding him of a conference call in ten minutes.

"Do the companies you shadow receive a copy of your report?"

She shrugged. "I've always sent one, but I don't think Ricky or anyone at Gracechurch Street actually read it. Why?"

"I would like to read your analysis of Pemberley."

"Oh! Okay." She seemed surprised, but not displeased.

He left her then, with mixed feelings. Conversing with her like this was heady stuff after so many hopeless, silent months. The events of the last two weeks seemed to have made them…well, friends, if he had to categorize it. And that friendship was so very welcome. Watching her videos, watching as she shared the events and trials and joys of life with her sisters and friends, had made him yearn to do the same.

But of course, he wanted more, too. He wanted all of her. The writing of her prospectus underlined the fact that her time here was limited. And he still didn't know if there was any chance for them.

%%%

_*_ _twitter dot com /PemberleyDig/status/296000732602175489_

_Any thoughts on Lizzie's introduction to the confrontation video, or her discussion with Darcy about the perspective they've gained on the painful events they've inflicted on each other? I would love to hear them!_

_FYI…this spring was more hectic than expected, and I have now run out of pre-written chapters. I have sections written of each of the remaining chapters, including most of the next chapter. I will do my utmost to continue posting once a week, but if I don't…you know what happened. Thanks for your patience!_


	16. Reaching through the blue

_Reminder…as mentioned in the introduction to ch. 1, Lydia and Wickham do not date in this AU._

%%%

**Chapter sixteen: Reaching through the blue**

_Monday, February 4_

Lizzie stared at the blinking cursor on her laptop screen as she had for at least the last ten minutes. She was working on the section of her prospectus describing the evolution of Pemberley Digital; specifically, the succession of leadership and their role in adapting the company to remain at the cutting edge of the ever-changing communications field.

"The succession of leadership." It sounded so formal, so cut-and-dried. But it represented the ripping apart of Darcy's life.

She knew more about it from those around him than from him. The leaden facts he had written in his letter: "My parents died when I was a freshman in college. Technically, I was an adult, but I didn't feel like one. Suddenly I was the head of my family's company, and the guardian to my little sister." Anne Reynolds, general manager since the time of Darcy's father, had added some details in her history of the company. They were professional, not personal details, but Lizzie had been surprised and deeply impressed by her description of how Darcy had earned the trust first of the board members, who although he had been groomed to lead the company eventually were taking a huge risk handing over control to an unproven college student, then and most importantly of his employees, and before long of the larger business community, even as he fought off competitors who saw the change in leadership as an opportunity for themselves.

Then had come her lunch with Gigi, a few days before…everything happened. She had not exactly planned to pump her for information about her brother, and certainly not on so personal a subject. But Gigi had been eager to speak of him, and an innocent remark about enjoying the art collection in the Anne F. and William S. Darcy Memorial Hall* had led Gigi to describe how Darcy had envisioned and overseen that memorial. How he had kept custody of her after the accident and practically raised her. How he had completed his degrees—bachelor's and MBA—in a blur of sleepless determination even as he learned the ropes of being CEO. She had said little of the accident itself, and Lizzie had squelched her own curiosity. What she did hear was enough. She had listened and ached for Gigi, but most of all for Darcy.

Lizzie had avoided the subject during her corporate interview with him. She had asked about various changes he had initiated in the company, as necessary for her prospectus, but not about the changes that the crucible of leadership had wrought in _him_. She would not pry, especially on camera.

She wanted to know, though. She wanted to know everything. Had he known Bing or Fitz then, or had he endured all this without friendly support? She wondered what had kept him going through such devastation. If he had ever thought about giving up. She wondered too about the everyday things. What he'd been like before the accident. What hobbies or hidden talents he had. How the overprotective brother in him had handled teaching Gigi to drive. What—if anything—could make him laugh uncontrollably. Whether he'd always dressed like a hipster, even before it was fashionable.

None of which she would ever know.

She had to reconcile herself to that. To reality. She thought she had, but the last two days had proved that to be an illusion.

It was so hard not to hope when Darcy readily made time for her, even while at work. When they could sit over tea or coffee and talk through personal, weighty things. When he was so…well, "amazingly nice" didn't even scratch the surface. He was just…incredible. A day later, she still melted every time she remembered his deep, gentle voice telling her that all was forgiven, that he had somehow, impossibly, watched the same videos she had but come away respecting and _believing_ in her. When he had comforted her as she cried out her relief, she had wanted nothing more than to scoot over onto his lap and hold him close and be held in return.

Actually doing so was out of the question. Absolutely. Obviously. She had to guard herself against reading too much into his kindness. He didn't love her anymore—what man could, after being burned twice?—but apparently he did still care enough to do what he could when her peace of mind was at stake. Then, this morning over coffee, he had revealed another reason for his behavior: guilt. It was, of course, ridiculous for him to feel guilty over what had been a completely justified strong reaction to her betrayal, but it was hardly out of character in a man for whom responsibility was almost a compulsion.

Then there was what he'd said about her rejection: "I think it was necessary, and for the best." He had not intended the words to hurt; she knew by now that he was too kind to say or even hint that he was relieved that things had not worked out between them. He just meant he had learned from it and was moving on. Now it was up to her to do the same. A bitter lump formed in her throat at the thought of someday concluding that losing him had been for the best. Was that even possible?

Lizzie closed her eyes and breathed deep. Darcy was being kind, even friendly, and for as long as she remained here, she would be the same. After she left…well, she wouldn't think about that right now. She opened her eyes and resolutely resumed typing.

%%%

_Tuesday, February 5_

"Roles are patterns of behavior that we recognize in each other that are representative of a person's social status."

Lydia rolled her eyes. Her sociology professor was speaking loudly, which meant this would show up on the next exam. It also meant she was quoting from the course textbook. Word for word. Lydia found the sentence in her book and underlined it. Taking notes for this class was ridiculously easy.

She thought about just walking out. Evan from the beach volleyball team usually sat with her and kept her from getting too bored, but he'd skipped today. She was sitting in the back row, so no one would notice if she left. But contrary to popular opinion—or at least to Lizzie's opinion, which was basically the same thing now—Lydia was usually pretty good about going to class.

So instead of leaving, she pulled out her phone. Twitter, Facebook—nothing new. Tumblr—someone had posted a cute gifset based her video from today. She reblogged it. She skimmed a few blog posts, pausing occasionally to underline another sentence in her textbook. Then, social media done, she sighed. Still another 45 minutes to kill.

Lydia surfed for a while and somehow ended up on Lizzie's YouTube channel. She hadn't watched her videos since their fight. They weren't exactly fighting anymore. Lizzie had called and said she understood why getting that book made Lydia mad, and Lydia had admitted she shouldn't have dragged Lizzie to Carter's every night when she had to get up early to skype with that British company she was shadowing. So things were back to normal. Sort of.

Hmm…Lizzie's latest video was called "Consequences." What did that mean? Lydia plugged in her earbuds and put one in her ear. The introduction was weird. Lizzie felt guilty for hurting someone? She had stopped filming, without notice? Not even fighting with Charlotte had made her do that! Lydia hunched over her phone, worried. The intro music played. Then…Lydia swore under her breath, earning a scowl from the girl across the aisle.

_Darcy?!_ What the hell was he doing there? Lizzie was actually smiling at him, blech, until she realized he knew about the videos.

Darcy knew about the videos. Lydia stifled a gasp, remembering the things Lizzie had posted about him and showing him. This was going to get ugly. But wait…he hadn't watched the videos? He was acting all arrogant about it too. Because of course he was morally superior to the hundred thousand people who watched freaking _public_ video diaries without a written invitation.

Wickham told him about the videos? Getting Lizzie in trouble like that was a d-y thing to do. Maybe Lizzie was right, and he was a jerk. If so, he and Darcy deserved each other, because Darcy was furious at Lizzie now, accusing her of all sorts of awful motives. Lydia's heart started pounding. He had already hurt Jane. If he intimidated or threatened Lizzie, she would march up to San Francisco and make him stand still while she worked him over.

But just like that, it stopped. Darcy was out of frame, and Lizzie was looking after him, guilty and all…tragic, or something. Crying. He came back before long, and Lydia tensed again, but then…he apologized? Lydia stared at the screen, frowning, until the video ended.

Okay, that was officially the most confusing thing she'd ever seen. For one thing, why was Darcy in the videos again? Had he tracked Lizzie down to confront her? But no, Lizzie hadn't been surprised to see him. Maybe he'd followed her to this independent study, like he had to Ricky's company? That was super creepy. And what was with Lizzie's reaction? She hated Darcy! Lydia could understand her feeling guilty for secretly posting video of him, but Lizzie had looked more than just guilty. And why would she post this video? Yeah, Darcy had apologized for yelling at her, but he was going to hit the roof if he ever watched the videos and found out what she'd said about him. And…well, enough with the questions. It was time to get some answers.

Note-taking forgotten, Lydia started with the first video Lizzie had posted after leaving home. And things started to make more sense and got even more confusing.

Lizzie was shadowing Darcy's company. And she was gushing about it like Lydia hadn't heard her gush in a long time. Her tour guide was just as bad, but her gushing focused on Darcy himself. He was the most brilliant and kind and hard-working CEO in the history of ever, apparently. Lydia rolled her eyes, wondering if the woman was rehearsing her application for a pay raise. Lizzie didn't seem to think it was ridiculous, though. She just ate it all up.

The next video showed Lizzie in an office. She admitted she was lonely in this new city, that she missed Charlotte and Jane…and Lydia. Lydia sighed. She missed everyone too. The rest of the video was awkward—apparently Darcy's sister came to talk between the jump cuts? Then Darcy came, and the awkwardness went off the charts. He acted…not awful, even kind of nice, Lydia thought as he asked whether Lizzie was enjoying her stay. Of course, it was easier to be nice when her "odd family" wasn't there for him to sneer at.

Bing was in the next video. Lydia frowned when he asked about Jane. Lizzie told him to call her if he had something to say to her, but Lydia hoped he wouldn't. He'd caused enough drama and pain already.

Then it was Darcy again. Dude really was improbably clueless about the camera parked beside Lizzie's desk. He was acting nice again, asking how Lizzie's independent study was going, watching her constantly. Lydia's eyes narrowed. Good grief, he still liked her, didn't he? Lizzie asked him why he hadn't told Bing that Jane was heartbroken when he left. Darcy didn't seem upset that she questioned his decision—that was new—and Lydia had to agree with his point that Bing wouldn't have ditched Jane so easily if he truly cared for her. Jane deserved better than that.

Then Darcy yet again, this time for a "corporate interview." Lydia gritted her teeth as she watched. Not because of the overload of details about Pemberley Digital, but because Lizzie and Darcy were _flirting_ about it all. Lizzie actually liked him back, for G-'s sake! She liked him a lot, judging by her enthusiasm and the fact she never stopped smiling. She liked _Darcy_. And yeah, he'd actually been pretty nice in the last few videos. If that was all Lydia knew about him, she'd be texting Lizzie right now to congratulate her on the million-dollar mancake.

But putting on the nice act for a few weeks didn't erase the last year. Even though Lizzie was acting like it did.

Lydia frowned and brushed aside her bangs. So Lizzie liked Darcy…and then he found out about the videos.

She let that video play again, seeing more details now that her initial confusion was gone. Lizzie's introduction showed she was upset not about getting caught and having to interrupt her videos, but because she'd hurt Darcy. And he _was_ hurt. Lydia could see that now. She still scowled when he lost his temper and started grilling Lizzie…but she also saw that he asked whether the accusations were true instead of assuming. That was more than Bing had done for Jane.

So Lizzie was feeling guilty and pining. Darcy was feeling angry and hurt. Lydia was sorry to see that. She had to admit now that he wasn't a _complete_ jerk. But he was still the jerk who insulted Lizzie and despised their family. Who made Lizzie feel embarrassed about her family. And now she had fallen for him. That was definitely not okay!

At least it would end like this. Painful, but for the best. Darcy had only ever caused conflict and annoyance for them. They would be better off without him. Without Bing and Caroline. Just themselves, like she'd said to Jane.

But what had happened in the two weeks since Darcy found out about the videos? Lizzie hadn't come home. Maybe she was staying with Charlotte or Jane? It would have to be Charlotte. Jane had called Saturday night after work to say hi, and she would have told her if Lizzie was there. Lydia might not rank on Lizzie's list of friends—that still stung, when she thought about it—but she knew she did with Jane.

Wait a minute. A sudden thought made Lydia go back to the video's introduction. Lizzie had filmed it in the same place as her earlier videos. She was still at Pemberley Digital! What the…?

The video was almost done playing again when class ended. Lydia shoved her book in her bag but kept her phone out as she walked toward her car. She had a call to make.

%%%

Lizzie looked over from her prospectus to her phone, reading the caller ID in surprise as she picked it up. "Lydia?"

"Yeah."

Lizzie asked how she was, and got a vague reply. Then, "So…are you still at Pember-whatever?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I thought it looked like you were."

She thought it looked like…? Oh. "You watched my video from yesterday?"

"Yep," she said, popping the last letter. "My sociology class is suuuuuper boring, so I watched them all today."

"Seriously, Lydia? You watched my videos during class?!"

"OMG, give it a rest! I used headphones, and it was either that or fall asleep and probably snore!"

Lizzie took a deep breath and stifled the urge to scold. Lydia hadn't called her to be lectured. "Fine. Yes, I'll be at Pemberley Digital for another week. Darcy is letting me finish my independent study."

She hoped Lydia would leave it at that. She hadn't mentioned Darcy's ownership of the company during their brief phone call last week. He was already a sore subject between them, and a moot one since she would probably never see him again after next week. Lizzie swallowed hard against the pain of that thought. She didn't think she could handle Lydia saying negative things about him right now.

"So now you just cross your fingers and hope he doesn't change his mind and watch the videos?"

"He already has," she said concisely. "I gave him permission."

"Oh. Well, I guess it was _decent_ of him to let you stay anyway."

"It was way more than decent," she said tightly, and rose to shut the door.

"Oh, right. My bad. You're all into him now, so obviously he's _awesome_."

Argh! Why did Lydia have to be so impossible? Lizzie bit back a sharp retort and tried to answer calmly. "Well, if you watched my last few videos like you said, you saw what he's really like, and that I was dead wrong about him."

"'Dead wrong about him?'" Lydia echoed incredulously.

"Dead wrong about a lot of things, including him."

"G-, what is it with you? First you take his side over me, your freaking _sister_, and now you decide he was right all along about everything, about all of us, just because he put on the nice act for a few weeks!"

Oh, that did it. "_'The nice act?'_" Lizzie shot back. "You're the one seeing what you want to see now, Lydia! Do you remember what I said about him in my videos? I said he had to pay people to be his friends, that he ruined the lives of all people he came in contact with, that he was a…a slimy, unfeeling, sociopathic robot. That's not even half of it. He listened to all of that, and instead of throwing me out and suing the c- out of me like any normal person would, he let me stay here and encouraged me to start vlogging again! That's not 'the nice act' in any universe. That's a guy who _is_ awesome, awesome enough to forgive me for saying stuff that wasn't true, or fair, or—."

"So calling me a stupid whorey slut is okay because it's true, huh?"

Lizzie opened her mouth to reply, but the shock of Lydia's question stole her breath and her anger.

"_Ugh, Lydia's being a stupid whorey slut again!"_

She had actually used those words to introduce her sister. On her vlog. To what was now over a hundred thousand viewers. Somehow, she'd marathoned her videos and noticed the way she'd wronged Darcy and Bing and others, but not the way she'd wronged her own sister.

"You're right," she finally said, quieter. "I never should have said that. I…I'm sorry, Lydia."

"Whatever," she muttered.

Something else Lydia had said finally registered, too. "Look, I'm not saying Darcy was right about everything. He wasn't, and he knows that. Do you know the first thing he said to me after watching my videos? He came and apologized to _me_ for being arrogant and insulting all of us last fall."

"Really?" Lydia said, voice thoroughly skeptical.

"Really."

"That's…kinda hard to believe."

"I know," Lizzie sighed. And she did, truly. "I—I don't want to fight about him, Lydia. We've already done that enough, and…anyway, it's not going to matter after next week."

There were long seconds of silence from the other end of the line before Lydia finally said, "I'd bring you chocolate and a Colin Firth movie if I was there."

Lizzie breathed a laugh at that. "Maybe some Ghirardelli _would _help…".

"Life is so not fair," Lydia muttered. Then, "Ok, I've gotta go meet Mary now. _Bye_, Lizzie."

%%%

The Domino beta test. That was the topic of this afternoon's meeting. The basic format was set—building on the demo's popularity, Pemberley Digital would accept applications from communities to participate in a larger, integrated experiment coordinated by Gigi—but there were endless details to hash out. Lizzie added little to the discussion. This was unusual for her; after seeing that Darcy and his team truly listened to and valued her input, she had spoken up increasingly often. But today her thoughts were elsewhere.

The meeting was winding down when Darcy caught her eye and raised his eyebrows slightly. Apparently he'd noticed her uncharacteristic silence.

"Is the plan for Domino videos to always be public?" she asked.

There was a beat. Then Drew said, "Storytelling implies an audience, doesn't it?"

"Are you thinking of private audiences, Lizzie?" Sylvia asked. "Using Domino to facilitate communications, but keeping the videos internal to the community?"

Lizzie bit her lip. "Actually, I think it could be useful to individual people as well as to communities. Gigi and Fitz have a great relationship, so this hasn't come up during the demo, but watching yourself and the way you communicate with others is really useful in identifying, um, behavior and relationship issues."

"You are suggesting that Domino be used privately, in…a counseling setting, perhaps?" Darcy asked, leaning forward.

Sylvia too seemed interested. "It would depend on the counseling situation, of course. But maybe if there's interpersonal conflict?"

"The algorithms _do_ latch onto emotions or tension," Drew said thoughtfully. "This would give our goal of 'life-revealing' a whole new meaning."

"We would need to release it to run remotely," Darcy said, already thinking through logistics. "Confidential footage shouldn't have to flow through us."

Drew nodded. "That won't work for the beta test, but once we roll Domino out to the public…".

"People using it for other reasons might be surprised by how 'life-revealing' it is in this way, too," Lizzie added.

Discussion lasted a few more minutes, and it was decided that Sylvia would contact a local counseling group and explore the possibilities.

Afterward, Darcy caught up with Lizzie in the hall. "I appreciate your suggestion," he said. "I like the idea of using Domino to help people in a more direct way."

She smiled a little. "You're welcome."

"Is something troubling you?" he asked after watching her carefully for a few moments.

Of course he would notice. "Lydia called earlier."

"Ah. She is still…antagonistic?"

"Yeah. I—I'm starting to understand why. But at least we're talking."

He nodded. Lizzie tensed a little, hoping he wouldn't ask for further details. Not that she would mind talking this over with him—he knew a thing or two about little sister difficulties—but given that their fight had been largely about him…

"Speaking of sisters," she said brightly. "Where was Gigi today?"

"Tennis practice," he said, letting the subject drop. "She has a tournament soon and wants to be fully prepared. I, ah, should warn you," he continued, his tone lightening, "she picked up on the mention of tennis in your videos and may challenge you to a match over the weekend."

Lizzie groaned. "I _told_ you she was plotting to kill me."

Darcy smiled and answered in kind. He eventually parted from her at the elevator—his work day was not yet finished—but Lizzie returned to her office in better spirits. Just being around him made her feel happier.

%%%

_*_ _pemberleydigital dot com /darcy-memorial-hall/_

_I would love to hear what you all think of Lydia's marathon of the videos and argument with Lizzie! Lydia's sociology professor is, sadly, based on my own from a few years back._

_Also, if you want _all_ the feels about Darcy dealing with his parents' deaths and assuming leadership of Pemberley Digital, I recommend _Forever Young _(archiveofourown dot org /works/830893)_._ In addition to incredibly moving writing, the author put a lot of thought into fleshing out how a college kid convinces a board of directors to entrust him with leadership of a multi-million dollar company. Unfortunately, the story is two chapters short of completion, but still…absolutely worth the read, and the heartache._


	17. Every last unspoken word

_It might be fun to read this chapter while imagining you haven't read the previous fifteen. Imagine yourself watching Lizzie's videos while she's at Pemberley Digital. She and Darcy are getting along, working through the awkwardness and even starting to flirt a little. Then there's an abrupt two-week hiatus, then she posts the confrontation video (chapter 1), and then…this._

%%%

**Chapter seventeen: Every last unspoken word**

_Wednesday, February 6_

Darcy stood a few feet to the side of Lizzie's camera, his stomach tying itself in knots. He'd expected to be nervous when the time came—his previous appearances in her videos had been in ignorance or in such a state of mind that the camera hardly mattered—but not _this_ nervous. He sincerely hoped he was not about to make a fool of himself or make her regret asking him to participate.

"Ready?" Lizzie asked when she'd removed the lens cap and checked over everything.

"Ready." He wasn't, of course, but he would just have to be.

She turned on the red light and moved to sit on the stool. "So my last video was really…intense," she began to say to the camera. "I hope you understand now why I took some time off from vlogging. I went back and watched all my videos, and it made me realize that I'd let them become not just bigger than me, but bigger than the rights and feelings of the people around me. Darcy more than anyone, obviously, but he wasn't the only one. I…I'm actually still realizing the extent of it." She paused for a moment, brow furrowing a little as she looked down. Then, "Anyway, that was wrong, and I'm working really hard to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Darcy calmed somewhat as he listened. This situation was difficult for her too.

"Now," she said, her tone lightening, "as you've probably figured out since I'm, well, still _here_, Darcy decided to let me stay and finish my independent study. A lot has happened since then, and today I'm going to show you some of it. Thing is, I wasn't filming when all this happened. But despite the lack of dramatic tension when reenacting it…well, let's just say I don't think you'll be disappointed," she said with a teasing smile, "because I'm going to have some help."

She beckoned him then, sliding over to make room for him. "William Darcy, meet"—she gestured to the camera—"the internet. Officially. Finally."

"Hello, everyone," he said, nodding to the multitude effectively contained within her camera.

"Well?" she asked.

Darcy came to a decision. She'd said he could deliver the tagline this time, and while he'd tossed around a few ideas in his mind, they all centered on things he couldn't say. Or, as he hoped, couldn't say _yet_. Anyway, time for his fallback plan. He quirked an eyebrow at Lizzie, then faced the camera head-on and said, "My name is William Darcy, and I approve this video."

Lizzie's face lit with a smile when he looked back to her, and at that moment he couldn't care less what her viewers would think of the trite little line.

She became more serious when she turned to address the camera again. "So after my last video, I wrote Darcy a letter about…about what happened. It seemed appropriate, even though it wasn't like the letter he wrote me."

"Indeed. While handwritten, it lacked both cursive and wax seal."

Lizzie gave him a strange look. Maybe that hadn't been as funny as he hoped. "I meant it was different because I couldn't defend what I'd done."

"True. You answered my questions from that afternoon, and thoroughly apologized. I too answered your questions, but was bitter and defensive."

"Only at the beginning," she said, her voice quieter as she addressed him rather than her viewers. "The end was…respectful, actually."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. He had not felt particularly respectful while writing.

"Anyway, in the letter I gave him permission to watch my videos. As you guys saw, he was being a gentleman and not watching them because they were my 'diaries,' but it was completely ridiculous for him not to watch them when…", she glanced at him, her voice regretful, "when everyone else had. So then…".

"I watched them," he filled in, inclining his head to see her face. She was starting to sound guilty again. He hoped it was just a natural response to recounting the past like this, but even so, he did not like to see it.

"With Gigi and Fitz there for…moral support, I guess?"

"Actually, I watched them by myself first, then with the others."

"Really? A-and you watched them again last week?"

"Er…yes."

"Oh!"

Darcy shifted awkwardly in his seat, hoping his admission did not make her uncomfortable or think him obsessive. She did not _look_ uncomfortable, he thought, but even after watching her videos, he was far from expert at reading her.

"There was much to take in," he added by way of explanation. "We have each changed a great deal since last year."

"Yeah," she drew out the word, "I'm trying to portray people from more than just my limited perspective…and now, _not_ portray them without their permission."

"I'm attempting the same, to see from other points of view."

Lizzie smiled at that, shy but genuine. Apparently all was well.

Turning to face her camera again, she continued, "Then, after all that, Darcy came to ask a favor."

She looked at him expectantly. He glanced from her to her camera and back, then asked in a lowered voice, "Is this where we do costume theater?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know if you'd actually want to wear a…".

Her voice trailed off as he pulled a strip of fabric out of his pocket and popped the collar of his dress shirt.

"You…brought your own costume?" She was gaping at him as she always did when he managed to surprise her. He'd seen that expression a lot over the last month. Occasionally it shamed him, that courteous or kind behavior in him should shock her so…but now, and indeed most of the time, he _loved_ causing that expression.

"I brought my own bow tie," he corrected, draping it around his neck to begin. "Your newsboy hat is fine, but button-on bow ties are an abomination."

She outright snickered at that.

He expected her to turn then to fetch the hat and her own costume shirt, but she didn't. Instead, she sat motionless, her smile fading, her eyes intent upon the movements of his fingers as he looped and manipulated the fabric into the correct shape. Her unexpected scrutiny made him feel flustered, stole away his breath.

Darcy gave the ends one final tug, then lowered his hands. "Straight?" he asked quietly.

Lizzie leaned forward and adjusted the knot slightly, her hand so close to his throat. "Straight," she confirmed, her voice low.

With that, she moved away. Darcy could not take his eyes off her as she crossed the room to rummage through a box.

He loved her. He wanted her, in a deep, profound way that transcended the modern physical connotation of that word. He thought—he hoped—that she was beginning to turn toward him. Her smiles came readily now when she saw him, and often in response to something he said. Her expressive face revealed…well, he could never quite decipher what, but certainly something more promising than ever before. She was always willing to talk to him now; in fact, it had occurred to him last night that it had been some time since _she_ had ended one of their conversations. _He_ was usually the one to draw away now, either because of the demands of work or, in the case of last Sunday, because he had not wanted to overstay his welcome at her apartment.

None of that guaranteed her interest in him, but taken together…well, his hopes were growing cautiously. Any interest on her part was of course fledgling, in light of their conversation last Sunday. Given time, though, he hoped she might grow to like him well enough to agree to date him. And he was willing to give her time, as much as she needed.

Circumstances, however, would not, which was why the need to tell her of his feelings burned urgently within him, fueled just now by the way she'd watched the simple act of tying his bow tie. But declaring himself on impulse, without considering whether she was ready to hear him, and with her camera silently capturing it all? No, he was not about to repeat that particular mistake.

Lizzie was back now, handing him the brown newsboy hat and donning a familiar plaid shirt. Darcy forcibly roused himself. Now was not the time to lose himself in speculation about her feelings. He was here to help her with this video, and that was challenging enough without further distraction. Especially since…he glanced furtively at her camera, remembering what she'd said about her viewers' fixation with him. If he allowed himself to become discomposed, a hundred thousand people would see it. The thought reawakened his nerves but also honed his focus.

Costume theater of him asking her to advise Gigi. Right. "Do you have a script for this?"

"It was just a conversation between us," she said, hesitating. "Do you think we need one?"

"Perhaps? I recall the gist of what was said, but not my exact wording. I, ah, cannot claim to 'forget nothing.'"

"Oh." She blushed a little. "I might not remember exact wording either, since it's been a week. Let's just go with whatever we remember."

"Very well." At her nod, he began, "Lizzie, I need your help. Have you heard of Domino?"

She replied in turn, and they were off.

Some seconds later, he said, "Actually, that leads to my question for you." Before he could go on to explain why Gigi needed her assistance, Lizzie interrupted him.

"I thought you were going to ask me to take them down."

Darcy paused to adjust his thoughts. Apparently they were veering off-script. "You mean…take your videos down?"

"Yeah." She was looking at him intently, her voice matter-of-fact. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you had. I mean, you're kind of a public figure, and I was really inconsiderate about that."

"Were your videos as calculated and unscrupulous as Wickham described, I might have. But they aren't. Far from it, in fact." He glanced at the camera, then back to her. "Besides, the way I choose to behave when I know you are filming is my own responsibility."

Lizzie narrowed her eyes and looked ready to disagree, then unexpectedly smiled. "Well, let's not argue for the greater share of blame."

A bark of laughter escaped before he could check it. "Perhaps you should be portraying me," he replied, not caring what her viewers might make of his remark.

Her eyes positively lit up. "Ooh, are you volunteering to be me?"

"I—that, er, was not my intent," he stammered. It would be awkward and miserable attempting to portray Lizzie, not to mention that she might think he was mocking her if he spoke in falsetto or attempted to imitate her speech patterns.

"Fine," she said with a exaggerated sigh. She turned to address her viewers playfully. "I guess I shouldn't overwhelm my assistant on his first day."

_His first day._ A new beginning. He liked that. "Thank you," he said succinctly.

"You're welcome," she said, equally succinct. Then, "Ok, getting back to costume theater, your question was…?"

"Ah, yes…Domino will produce videos somewhat similar to yours. Gigi will coordinate the demo, but she has no experience in a vlog format. Would you consider advising her?"

"You want _me_ to teach your sister to vlog?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

"I think you the best person to ask," he replied. "You are under no obligation to advise her, although you would of course be offered official credit for doing so."

Lizzie's eyes widened dramatically at that, and there was a long pause before she said, "Um…okay."

"You will advise Gigi?"

She nodded, silent.

That was the end of the scene; after her agreement, they had immediately left to meet with Gigi and Drew. Darcy watched her for a moment, wondering what to do next. In her videos, there was always a jump cut at the end of a costume theater scene. Perhaps that gave her time not only to remove her costume shirt but also to mentally transition back to the present? Or perhaps her silence stemmed from something else?

Darcy removed his hat. "Are you sure you don't want to be listed as her advisor, Lizzie?" he ventured, wondering if she might feel differently now that relations between them were not so emotionally fraught. She'd certainly provided enough valuable input to deserve official credit. "It's not too late to change that."

"No, I don't mind helping," she said, shaking herself from her absorption with the scene and shrugging off her plaid shirt.

That wasn't what he'd asked, but he decided not to press the issue. He handed her the hat, which she set aside along with her shirt.

"Okay, almost done," she said, flashing a smile. Then, turning to her camera, she said, "So yeah, I've been advising Gigi on creating web video. She and Fitz are doing an awesome job with the demo! Based on my twitter feed, some of you have already found it, but for those who haven't, there will be a link"—she pointed downward—"in the description. You can see Fitz again, meet Gigi finally, and check out a really amazing communication and storytelling app."

Darcy's mouth tipped upward as he listened. Apparently he was getting free advertising from this.

Lizzie quickly wrapped up the video and turned off her camera.

"How was that?" he asked. "Do we need to refilm anything?"

"I don't think so," she said. She glanced at the window behind them, streaked now with rain. "If we did, it would have to be the whole thing. It's almost dark now, so it would be really obvious if I edited in later footage. But…I think this was really good."

He nodded, glad their effort had pleased her, but a little disappointed to be done filming. "I will be leaving soon. I know you don't have far to go, but would you like a ride?" he asked.

"Oh! Um…". She looked out at the rain again, then smiled. "That would be great!"

%%%

The drive was indeed short, and all too soon they pulled up in front of her apartment building.

Lizzie unbuckled her seat belt, picked up her bag from the floor, then paused. "Thank you. I mean, not just for the ride, but for being in my video and…everything. I really appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure, Lizzie."

She got out then, walked up to her unit, and unlocked the door. She turned back to wave at Darcy—she knew from experience that he would not leave without seeing she'd entered safely—then stood watching until his car was out of sight.

Once inside, she left her bag on the counter and curled up on the loveseat in the living room. She needed to eat soon, but for now her thoughts lingered on Darcy.

She'd had an epiphany of sorts toward the end of their filming session. Suddenly, in a burst of clarity, she'd realized what he was doing.

Her videos had crossed ethical and legal lines. She'd known that back at Netherfield, when she admitted on camera that she risked expulsion if her Journalism Ethics professor found out she was posting footage without her subjects' consent. She'd known it at Collins &amp; Collins, when she told Charlotte that Darcy could sue her for some of the things she'd said about him. She'd ignored that reality for months, but the unwelcome truth had always lurked—that her videos might one day injure her professionally.

And what had Darcy done? He had ensured that if anyone—in a job interview or before an ethics hearing at her college or anywhere else—confronted her about posting video of him, she would be able to counter with the fact that after finding out about her videos, he had named her an advisor on his company's latest project. And he hadn't left it at that. He'd given her paperwork legally permitting her to film at his company. He'd volunteered to be in her videos—to sit beside her, acknowledge her viewers, and show everyone watching that he appeared in her videos willingly. And then he'd suggested and delivered an unambiguous statement, on camera, that he approved of her videos.

What had he done? Only provided the most effective protection in his power to shield her from the consequences of the ways she had wronged _him_. And he had done so without drawing any attention to the fact.

Lizzie rested her chin on her raised knees and sighed. Darcy truly was the best man she'd ever known. Some time passed before she finally rose to heat up her leftovers and hook up her laptop. She had some editing to do.

%%%

_Only one more chapter after this. I'd love to hear your reaction to Lizzie's latest video!_


	18. Promise

_Well, the one promised chapter became two. I'll post the actual last chapter (which is completely written now) at my usual posting time this weekend, and a short epilogue the following weekend. Thanks for your patience!_

_About Lizzie's last independent study…in LBD, we weren't told what the plan was prior to Lydia's crisis; afterward, Lizzie had to come up with something that would allow her to be near Lydia and eventually developed the idea of shadowing her own company (in addition to the videos, see the February 15 and March 5 entries in the LBD book). I can't see her having that idea in this AU, when she is only just easing back into vlogging after a traumatic hiatus. I've devised an alternative that you'll see in this chapter._

**Chapter eighteen: Promise**

_Friday, February 8_

The video had been up for a little over a day, and Lizzie almost regretted posting it. The keymashing from her viewers had finally stopped, but the comments swamping her social media accounts had not. The reaction to the confrontation video might have been mixed, but the reaction to this one was almost uniformly gleeful. During a brief visit to Tumblr, she'd seen an astounding number of GIFsets, a "My name is William Darcy and I approve _" meme, and at least a dozen lengthy posts analyzing the meaning of every word she and Darcy had spoken. Lizzie had eventually closed her internet browser entirely and gone back to work on her prospectus, cheeks burning at some of the speculation.

Her viewers weren't the only ones excited. Gigi had met her at the Domino filming session yesterday with a strangling hug, squealing over the video and thanking her for the compliment and plug. Charlotte had texted around noon:

_So when you said the video was low-key and good, you actually meant sickeningly adorable?_

_Will work late tonight, but you better call me this weekend._

_Unless you have better things to do ;)_

Lydia had texted too, about 30 minutes earlier than she had on Tuesday, so Lizzie suspected she'd watched her video in class again.

_Ok Darcys kind of funny_

_OMG your drool is showing! Ewww_

At least she could have a normal, if brief, conversation with Jane, who had called late last night to check in but hadn't got around to watching the video yet.

Her friends, her viewers, all were excited and hopeful for her. Her heart ached with their certainty that she and Darcy were destined for each other.

She understood why they were hopeful. Editing this video marked the first time she'd seen footage of the two of them together since the confrontation. Her edits had been light, but she'd played the footage over and over, far more absorbed in watching Darcy. She watched him, not knowing what to think. He seemed to be enjoying himself—self-conscious at times but engaging with herself and her viewers more freely than she had imagined possible. He gave her his full attention, as he always had. He was…friendly, warm, even gently teasing. But did it extend beyond that? Did he still care for her, as her viewers and Charlotte seemed to think? Lizzie would give anything for that to be true.

Yes, she could finally admit to herself that she wanted him to care. Hers was no longer merely a painful knowledge that there _had_ been a chance for them—it was a yearning to _have_ that chance, to be with him and explore what they could become together. But yearning for him didn't mean she could ignore reality.

The reality was that she had no real proof he still loved her. Most of his actions could be explained by other motives—guilt, as he'd admitted earlier in the week, the memory of having once loved her, the concern of a responsible CEO for the professional future of those at his company, and of course simple generosity and goodness of character.

The reality was that she was leaving. Her prospectus was done. She'd finished it yesterday and proofed it once before and once again after today's Domino meeting. It was done. She had no official reason to stay at Pemberley now—and no reason to think Darcy wanted anything to do with her after she left.

Lizzie resolutely sent an email to Dr. Gardiner with her prospectus attached, then another to Darcy, since he'd requested a copy. She included a couple cheerful sentences thanking him for allowing her to shadow his company and for participating in her report. She did not say good-bye—she was not leaving just yet—but nevertheless a dull finality swept through her as she clicked send.

It was time to make plans to move on. Time to figure out her last independent study. Start to write her thesis. Get over Darcy enough that she could watch and analyze her videos without constant grief over what they'd cost her. And of course start job-hunting.

Lizzie picked up a small stack of business cards that had sat neglected on the corner of her desk since her arrival. They'd sat neglected in her room before that, ever since she'd collected them last summer at VidCon. She flipped through them now, knowing she needed to contact at least a few of these people very soon, then set them down again.

Out of habit, she turned on her camera instead and moved to sit before it. She'd worked through so many difficult things in the last ten months using her videos, the act of engaging with the camera and then editing the footage often providing clarity. She looked into the lens now, and realized suddenly that this too had changed now that Darcy was among her viewers.

She sighed deeply, then said, "My name is Lizzie Bennet, and I don't know what happens next."

%%%

She was leaving.

Darcy stared at his screen, the earnings projection he had been examining now completely forgotten. Her email didn't say when. A sudden fear chilled him, that she might be gone already. It was Friday afternoon after all, a natural time to leave. Rationally, he knew she would not leave without telling him or Gigi or the others on the Domino team. But since when had he been wholly rational about Lizzie?

Gigi and Fitz were convinced that she liked him. Gigi in particular had been ecstatic over her latest video, calling him within minutes of its posting and breathlessly demanding that he drop everything and watch it.

"I have already," he'd admitted, "and furthermore, I am _in_ the video. Its contents hardly surprise me."

"Then why aren't you in her office right now kissing her face off?"

He winced. "That is an unfortunate turn of phrase."

"Yeah, okay, but…you know she wants you to, right? I mean, just look at her!"

She had hung up soon after, needing to head to class, but not before he'd extracted a promise that she would try to avoid overwhelming Lizzie with her enthusiasm.

He had indeed looked at Lizzie though, absorbing himself in that video to an almost embarrassing degree. His hopes grew with each viewing. Her luminous smiles, the way her voice softened a little when she addressed him rather than her viewers, her expression while watching him knot his bow tie, which footage she had surprisingly left in—all gave him hope that she would receive him differently this time.

It was still too soon to ask her, though…but circumstances were forcing his hand.

Darcy started from his chair and toward Lizzie's office. He needed at least to find out when she was leaving, and if she was willing to stay in touch with him wherever life took her next. If she was headed back home, so much the better. He was not above manufacturing an excuse to visit Netherfield again. If not, and phone calls were their only option during her next independent study, so be it. And if instead he had misread her feelings again…

He paused outside her office, his breathing deep and shaky. At least he would know.

%%%

This video was going to require a lot of editing. Lizzie had found herself speaking intermittently at first, pausing to consider what she did and did not want to say on camera now. She had finally found her rhythm and was telling her viewers about turning in her prospectus when the knock came.

"Excuse me, Lizzie."

"Oh! Darcy…hi!" She couldn't stop her smile at the sight of him, bittersweet though it was.

"How are…ah, you are filming. My apologies."

"No, it's fine," she said quickly when he made as if to leave. "I was just getting started, and you know my viewers are always happy to see you."

He closed the door behind him and joined her, sparing a nod of recognition for her viewers before focusing on her. "I saw your email. You are leaving?"

"Well, I—I thought I'd stay till the end of the demo, if that's okay. I—."

"Of course you are welcome to stay."

"Oh…um, great!" she said, thrilled by his emphatic response. "The couple I'm house-sitting for won't be back till next weekend anyway, and…," she sighed, "I also need to figure out where I'm going."

"You mean…whether to go home or straight to your next independent study?"

"No, I mean what my next independent study is going to be. Dr. Gardiner left it to me to line this one up, and with everything…," she gestured vaguely, "I just don't have anything yet. I do have some business cards from VidCon as possibilities, though." She didn't want to sound completely helpless, even if it was obvious she'd been procrastinating.

"Might I be of assistance?" he asked, his gaze intent. "Depending on where you would like to go, I may be able to put you in contact with the appropriate person."

"Oh! Well…I don't have a particular company in mind. Something involving new media, preferably, and different than the companies I've shadowed so far."

"Hmmm." Darcy was looking over her shoulder, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"I know that isn't very specific," she said, "but I—."

"No, broad is fine," he reassured her. "I was just thinking through the options. What would you think of…?" And he proceeded to describe a half dozen different possibilities, ranging from a group of consultants who developed creative ways for small businesses to expand their social media presence, to a firm aimed at helping schools monitor for cyber-bullying, to a company that had pioneered the use of social media, particularly YouTube, to expose shelter animals to potential adopters. Each company sounded wonderful; clearly, he had no qualms about praising his competitors.

"The combination of animals and YouTube is hard to resist," she said thoughtfully, "but the consulting group sounds really interesting. Taking something small and new and stretching to see how it can connect with even more people. Kind of like we're doing with Domino."

He nodded. "I thought that might appeal to you. Theirs is naturally a strongly entrepreneurial environment, but they also provide extremely low rates to startup nonprofits as a public service."

"That sounds great! Do you think they'd let me shadow them?"

"More than likely, yes. Why don't I check with my connections there, then put you in touch with them?"

Suddenly Lizzie realized she was getting ahead of herself. "Wait…where are they? Where are any of these companies?"

"They are all here in San Francisco."

_To be continued…_

%%%

_Why this particular independent study? Well, I think that more practical experience with startups will be really helpful to Lizzie as she starts her own company. I imagine her catching the entrepreneurial bug from this consulting group, writing up a business plan for fun and mentioning it in her videos later on, and (surprise!) being contacted by potential investors. Basically, similar to canon in the end. And of course this independent study conveniently allows her to stay in San Francisco…_

_What do you think of it?_


	19. Be there to find me

_After LBD ended, the writers released the audition sides for several characters, including Gigi. In it, she and Darcy mentioned owning a pied-à-terre in the city. Unfortunately, the link seems to have disappeared when the original LBD website migrated to Pemberley Digital._

**Chapter nineteen: Be there to find me**

_Friday, February 8_

"Oh." Darcy had described a handful of options for her next independent study, all of which were in San Francisco. Lizzie wanted badly to read something into that, wanted him to want her to stay nearby as much as she herself wanted to. But of course he would be most familiar with the communications industry in his own city. It was literally his job to be.

"I have connections in other cities too, if…if you wish to go elsewhere," he said quietly. "Los Angeles, Chicago…".

Practicality nagged at her. She already had a veritable mountain of debt without adding rent payments in a ridiculously pricey city while she had no income. "I—I guess I could stay with Jane if I shadowed a company in Los Angeles," she said reluctantly.

"True. Accommodations are also no trouble if you decide to stay in San Francisco."

Clearly he hadn't seen her budget. Or…a sudden flush swept over her. Did he…did he mean her to stay with him? Not _with_ him, obviously—someone as wealthy as he surely had a spare bedroom or five. But still…staying with him? Lizzie gulped, her eyes wide at the thought of sharing a house with him again. Except this time _she_ would be the one hiding her feelings during every domestic encounter. She wasn't sure she was capable of that. But wait, why was she jumping to conclusions? Maybe he meant something else. Staying with Gigi perhaps, or in one of the napping pods at Pemberley Digital…

Darcy apparently noticed her reaction, for he flushed a little too. "What I meant was…Gigi and I have a pied-à-terre that we scarcely use. You would be welcome to stay there during your independent study."

Lizzie blinked. "A pea-ade-a-what?"

"Pied-à-terre. It means 'foot on the ground' in French," he explained with what was probably perfect pronunciation. "In, er, less pretentious terms, it is a studio condo a few blocks from here and less than a mile from the consulting firm."

"That sounds great! But…how much is the rent?"

"We own it outright."

"No, I mean, if I stayed there."

It was his turn to blink. "I would not charge you rent, Lizzie."

"Oh." It didn't have to an issue, she knew. She would need lodging for just over a month, and Bing had not charged rent when she and Jane stayed at Netherfield for that long. It just felt…uncomfortable somehow.

Darcy was eyeing her carefully. "You would prefer to pay me rent?" he said slowly.

"I don't know. Maybe?" She felt badly for the disappointed look that crossed his face. "Look, I—I know you're just trying to help, but…you've already done so much."

"I am hardly the only one," he returned. "I thought you might spend a couple hours coaching Gigi, but you have expanded your role beyond that to advisor and consultant on Domino. I would have paid an outside consultant well for that input, yet you have provided it without pay or official credit."

Lizzie bit her lip. She'd thrown herself into the Domino project for _him_, because it was the only thing he'd asked of her, and she wanted to do something for him, however impersonal compared to what he was doing for her. She understood his larger point, though. He was trying to meet one of her needs, even as she had met one of his, equally without expectations. "I guess it's pointless to try to keep score," she said with a resigned shrug.

"I would rather think it unnecessary than pointless," he replied, "but there are other options. I am sure Gigi would love for you to stay with her. That would mean a lengthier commute to the consulting firm, but not unmanageable. You could find a place of your own, or if you prefer the pied-à-terre and think it necessary…well, the rent you pay now is, er, affordable?"

Her mouth twitched. He was clearly in problem-solving mode. "Actually, they give me a small stipend for house-sitting."

Various expressions flickered over his face before he finally said, "I, uh, take it I should not offer you a stipend?"

Lizzie couldn't help it. The tension of the moment and his choice of words combined to make her snicker. The sound made him smile, and with that, the tension lessened somewhat.

"Why don't I think about it, maybe look around some before deciding?"

"Yes, by all means."

With that in mind, the fuller implications of staying in the city another month began to occur to her. "Wherever I stay, I'd like to invite Lydia up for President's Day weekend. I, um…I know she made a mess when she was at Netherfield for Bing's party, but I would make sure she didn't this time."

Darcy merely nodded.

"I just…well, you saw our fight at Christmas. We've started talking again, and I think we're making progress, but it's hard over the phone."

"I understand. Perhaps I could speak to her as well?"

Lizzie blinked. "You want to talk to Lydia?"

"If possible, yes."

He wasn't giving anything away. "Okay," she drew out the word. "I'll ask her, if she comes."

Darcy nodded again. "So it's settled? I will put you in contact with the consulting group, and you will let me know if you decide on the pied-à-terre?"

He seemed pleased, and was wearing the closest thing to a full smile she'd ever seen from him. She was pleased too—thrilled actually, that she would not have to say goodbye to him yet.

"Yet" was the key word, though. The next month would not be like the last week had been, when they'd spent time together almost every day. She would see less of him when she began shadowing another company. Much less actually, for she had seen him outside work only a couple times during her stay. The thrill was momentarily overtaken with sadness as she contemplated whether this gradual withdrawal from him might actually be more painful than the sudden wrenching departure she'd anticipated.

Lizzie shook herself. He had helped her plan out what had been a completely uncertain next month, yet another act of kindness on his part. He deserved her thanks for that. "Yeah, it's settled," she said, as cheerfully as she could manage. "And thanks to you, I actually get to have a weekend now instead of stressing about my plans!"

%%%

"So it's settled?" Darcy had to work to conceal his smile as he asked for Lizzie's confirmation. Their conversation had had its awkward moments, and he was still uncomfortable at the prospect of taking even discounted rent from her, but he could be nothing less than delighted with any outcome that gave him more time with her.

Her confirmation was slow in coming, though, and his smile dimmed as he watched an expression that might be sadness pass over her eyes and brow. She replied then as if nothing had happened, but he had to ask.

"Are you certain? You seem…uneasy still. If it is the question of rent that—."

"No, no, that's fine. Like I said, I'll think about it and get back to you."

"Oh. Very well." He shifted a little, wondering if she now wished him gone so she could finish her video, but not wanting to leave when she seemed ill at ease.

"Sorry, I was just realizing that we've gone from 'Operation Save Lizzie's Career' to 'Operation Advance Lizzie's Career.' And I _am_ grateful for that, truly. I mean, for both of them."

"'Operation?'" he echoed.

"You know, encouraging me to restart my videos so I won't have a mess of a thesis to write, volunteering to be in them so I don't get shellacked someday by an ethics committee, and now getting me an independent study I might not have landed on my own."

"Yes, but…". He hesitated, not wanting to say too much but also not liking that she seemed to think he saw her as a project. "I am aware of the professional implications, and am of course happy to aid your career in any way. But…I would have done the same, regardless."

Lizzie's voice softened even as her mouth twisted a little. "I know. I'm grateful for 'Operation Get Lizzie's Mojo Back' too."

Another time, he would have smiled at her unlikely use of slang, but for now he was still troubled by her implication. "There was an element of that, certainly. I did not like to see you distressed and guilt-ridden. That is not why I volunteered, though. I offered to be in your videos because I was—_am_—more than willing to be part of them."

"Oh!" She took a few seconds to process that, her smile growing all the while. "So today won't be the last time you're in my videos?"

"Not unless you wish it to be."

"I don't," was her immediate, emphatic reply.

"Good." He spoke absently, his attention wholly absorbed by the beautiful smile now illuminating her entire face.

When she had accepted his offer to appear in her videos, he had wondered if it would be a one-time thing, limited to showing her viewers what had happened during her hiatus. Now it appeared that was not the case. She looked nothing less than thrilled at the thought of including him. Nor was it for lack of other options. Gigi and Fitz knew about her videos now and would gladly appear in them.

Was it possible then that this smile was for _him_? That sharing this part of her life with him made her this happy?

Damn all his hesitations. Damn the camera still boring a hole through him. He had to _know_.

"Your videos are clearly important to you," he said. "I volunteered to be part of them because we are, I hope, friends, and…". Her smile dimmed a little, and it was the final push he needed. "And because I hope we can someday be more than friends."

Lizzie's jaw almost unhinged—apparently he'd surprised her yet again—and her hand flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes fluttering in her emotion. "I didn't think there was any way you could…".

He shook his head. "Lizzie, I still feel the same way I felt back in the fall. More strongly even than I did then. I—."

Then she flew at him, cutting off whatever he would have said, her arms tight around his chest and her forehead knocking into his jaw. Darcy lost no time in returning the embrace, holding her tight amid a flood of relief and euphoria. "I take it that someday is today?" he asked lightly.

He felt her nod against him. "I've been so afraid to hope," she said, emotion roughening her voice.

"I'm sorry." He would never have knowingly left her in doubt. "I wasn't certain whether your feelings had changed, or if it was too soon after…everything."

Lizzie leaned back just enough to make eye contact before admitting, "I was afraid to hope even before that. And…". She tilted her head thoughtfully, her smile growing. "Did you really watch _all_ my videos?"

A non-sequitur, at a moment like this? Darcy's forehead creased a little, but he gamely went along with it. "All 81 at the time, yes."

"But not the Q&amp;As?"

"Oh. No, I must have missed those. Why do you ask?"

"Because last fall wasn't the first time you were in my videos."

"Oh?" He drew back slightly, his mind racing to figure out where she was going with this. Had she captured him on film earlier at Collins &amp; Collins? Or at Netherfield? He felt certain he would have remembered seeing her with her camera, but…

"Yeah, you were in my first Q&amp;A, but I was blind before and didn't realize it until I rewatched everything a couple weeks ago."

Now she was speaking in riddles. Darcy watched her, puzzled, with no idea how to respond.

"You see," she said, her expression shy, "my viewers asked what I look for in a guy, and…I described you."

"Lizzie!" he breathed, his heart thudding even more violently than before.

"I said that I want to be respected and treated as an equal," she said, moving one hand to play with the bottom of his tie. "I want someone intelligent, who I can have a lively debate with," she continued, sliding her hand upward in a way that was anything but shy. "Who knows what he wants in the world"—her eyes swept up to his as she grasped his tie fully just below the knot—"and isn't afraid to go after it."

Those words, the inviting tilt of her face as she looked up at him—there could be only one response. Darcy dove in to kiss her, his hands flexing against her back as he urged her nearer. She responded immediately, eagerly, and he made a quiet sound low in his throat and kissed her again, slanting his mouth over hers. Elation raced through his veins, to know that Lizzie Bennet had chosen him—that they had chosen each other.

The kiss was far too short. Lizzie pulled away first and reached for her camera with a determined expression that her viewers would no doubt enjoy. Once it was switched off, she grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the couch behind them. He sat, and she promptly draped herself sideways on his lap.

"There. Less precarious than the stools," she said.

He nodded and leaned in, eager to taste her again, but she held him back with a hand on his chest.

"I love you, William Darcy," she said, with an intensity that floored him. "Not because you match my checklist or because of…all this. Because of _you_."

"I lo—," was all he could get out before she was kissing him.

And _she_ was indeed kissing _him_ this time, pressing as close as she could, one hand exploring his chest and tie while the other curled firmly around the nape of his neck. She kissed him, communicating her love and passion with every movement of lips and hands and tongue. It was a kiss that put his fantasies to shame. Darcy returned it with heat, allowing his hand to roam along her side before finally coming to rest at her hip.

Oxygen was eventually necessary, unfortunately, and they drew apart reluctantly, foreheads resting against each other.

"As I was about to say before I was so…delectably interrupted," he began some seconds later, pausing for breath every few words. "I love you, Lizzie Bennet."

She beamed at him before retorting, her eyes dancing, "I must not have kissed you well enough if you can still think of four-syllable words."

That was hardly fair. "You used precarious just a minute ago," he pointed out.

"Touché."

Darcy had just decided he had enough breath for another round when she looked suddenly back at her camera.

"That footage really _will_ kill my viewers," she said with a laugh. "Are you okay with posting it? I can, um, be creative with jump cuts if you want."

He shook his head. "You can post it all as far as I'm concerned. It sounds as if they have been pulling for us long enough to deserve it. But…" he paused dramatically. "I am glad the camera is off now."

"Why?"

"We have just concluded that our kisses are insufficiently addling; clearly, we must practice more."

Attempting to kiss a laughing Lizzie was quite fun.

%%%

_I would love to hear your reaction to this chapter. Thanks for reading!_


	20. From this day on

**Epilogue: From this day on**

_Sunday, February 10_

It was to be an afternoon of phone calls. They were both reluctant to emerge from the bliss of solitude, but they wanted to tell their families and friends before tomorrow's video did. They called Gigi first, using the non-recording feature of Domino. Lizzie sat just out of view, watching as Darcy carefully schooled his features.

"William!" came the warm, cheerful greeting. "What's up?"

"I've had an email from Lizzie with her prospectus attached. She…". He paused, swallowing hard. "She is leaving Pemberley."

"Oh, no! When?"

"She did not say."

Even knowing he was putting on an act, Lizzie was hard put to keep her distance when he sounded so dejected. In her preoccupation with her own grief at the prospect of leaving him, she had not considered how sending her prospectus would appear to him. Yet clearly the effect had been powerful, for he had arrived in her office within minutes of her sending it.

"You're going to talk to her, right?" Gigi was asking, pleading. "You can't just let her go home."

"'Let her?'" Darcy echoed, eyebrows rising. "I cannot _make_ her stay here, Gigi."

"But she _wants_ to stay! All you have to do is ask."

His mouth tipped painfully. "That easy, eh?"

"No, I know it's not easy. But…William, you'll hurt her as much as you hurt yourself if you let her go without saying anything. You've _got_ to talk to her!"

Lizzie exhaled slowly as Darcy turned to look at her. Gigi was right, and they both knew it.

"Please don't go, Lizzie," he said, smiling slightly but no longer teasing. "Please stay in San Francisco."

She went to him immediately, slipping her arms around his chest and pressing a light kiss to his jaw. Then, resting her head against his shoulder, she finally looked at the screen. "Hi, Gigi."

That woman's expression was comical—eyes bulging, mouth working noiselessly. Well, not noiselessly for long. The explosion was only seconds in coming, and it was loud and disbelieving and joyous. Lizzie couldn't help laughing at it, and glancing up again, she found Darcy's eyes on his sister, his smile somehow both smug and deeply affectionate.

"I can't believe you strung me along like that!" Gigi gasped when the initial burst was over. "I was about to shove you two in a room together to make you talk!"

Darcy raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Fortunately, such drastic measures were not necessary."

"But what _did_ happen? Because I can't believe it was as simple as you acted out!"

"Hardly," he muttered.

"I happened to be filming, so you'll see it tomorrow," Lizzie said, grinning. "Let's just say some of my viewers might react the way you did."

"Ooh, I can't wait!" Gigi congratulated them then, her smile stretching almost off her face. The video medium was insufficient to contain her delight, and she insisted on taking them to dinner that evening to celebrate.

They ended the call soon afterward.

"You were way too good at that," Lizzie said, shaking her head. "I'll have to be on the lookout so you don't string _me_ along!"

"I would do so only with caution. You, I think, would retaliate," he replied, drawing her closer now that his sister was no longer watching.

"Yep," she said concisely.

Lizzie grew thoughtful then, drawn in by the slow sweep of his fingers over her shoulder and collarbone. "What would you have done if I'd already lined up an independent study somewhere else?"

His fingers stilled, his eyes meeting hers. "I had hoped you would agree to stay in touch via telephone, or in person if you were somewhere I could reasonably visit."

"You would have followed me again?" she asked quietly, reminded once more of how long he had already loved her.

"If you were willing to see me, yes. I did not want to repeat past mistakes, but…you were not going to leave my life permanently unless _you_ wanted to. If I had to be creative in order to gain more time with you, so be it."

Lizzie's heart melted with this fresh proof of her importance to him, and she stretched up to share a tender kiss that warmed her all the way to her toes.

It was with reluctance that they eventually disentangled themselves and made the rest of their calls. Darcy took himself to the next room so they would not have to talk over each other. He called Fitz first, and from what Lizzie could see through the doorway, given the uncomfortable tuck of his chin, she suspected he was being subjected to some teasing.

She, meanwhile, called Charlotte, who delivered a triumphant "I knew it!" followed by "Please tell me you got it all on camera!" Next came her sisters. Jane predictably gushed happiness and congratulations, and promised to visit for a couple days once fashion week was over. Lydia she called with some trepidation. Her sister didn't seem very surprised by her announcement—didn't say much at all, actually—but she did agree to drive up over President's Day weekend.

Now she was down to one last call. Darcy strode into her view again before she could dial. He was pacing as he talked to Bing. Best she could tell, they had been talking for some minutes, and just now Darcy caught her eye and smiled warmly before saying something of which she could only distinguish Jane's name. Lizzie smiled back, happy that the two best friends were apparently finally talking over what had happened.

Then Lizzie picked up her phone again and called home. "Hey, Mom."

"Lizzie!" came the warm reply. "How _are_ you doing, dear? Have you found yourself a handsome young man up there yet?"

"Well, actually…yes."

She jerked the phone away from her ear a second later. Even with the experience of almost 25 years, she hadn't realized her mother could create a noise _that_ loud and unearthly.

"Tom! _Tom!_ Pick up the phone this second, Lizzie's got a man!" Then, without waiting for him to pick up, the grilling began. "What's his name? Is he a good man, Lizzie? Is he rich? When can we meet him?"

"Lizzie?" came her dad's voice before Lizzie could quell the flood. "What's all this?"

"Hey, Dad! I just called because I'm going to be up here at least another mouth. I'm going to shadow a consulting group as my last independent study, and—."

"Yes, yes, but the _man_, Lizzie!"

"—and I'm dating someone who's"—she caught his eye again as he rounded the room—"who's just incredible."

"And you've discovered this in only a few weeks?" her dad asked skeptically.

"Who is he? Where did you find him?"

"Actually, you can see how it happened, because…". She breathed deep. "Because I have a confession to make. And an apology, especially to you, Mom. You see, I have what's called a video blog…".

Darcy rejoined her by the time the call ended, stretching an arm around her shoulders and nudging her to lean into him. When she lowered the phone, he looked at her expectantly.

"They're going to watch the videos. Or at least some of them. Dad's a little worried, I think, but Mom is so excited about you that I'm not sure she even registered my apology. I'll talk to her again once she's watched them." She set her phone down and linked their fingers. "What about your calls?"

"Well, Fitz attained hitherto unimagined heights of alliteration. He asked me convey his congratulations to 'Lizzie B.'"

She smiled as he mimicked Fitz's distinctive intonation. "And Bing? I heard you mention Jane…".

Darcy nodded. "He has watched the rest of your videos and is disgusted with himself for hurting her. He…". He sighed, looking away. "He has a lot to work through right now."

Watching videos and finding out how much you'd hurt someone you loved. Lizzie could relate to that. Darcy's gaze returned to her at length, and she smiled sadly. "I hope he _can_ work through it, and forgive himself."

"As do I."

Lizzie played with his hand for a moment longer, then forcibly shook herself out of the serious moment. "So I guess everyone's been told…well, unless you want to call your Aunt Catherine?"

"As it happens, I do not," Darcy replied decisively. "I can think of a much more pleasant way to occupy our time until we meet Gigi."

"And that is?"

Then she found herself being carefully hauled onto his lap and plied, once again, with kisses.

%%%

_I started posting this story not knowing what kind of reception it would receive. LBD ended two years ago, after all, and even the viewers still captivated by it might not like the angsty premise I was working from. Your interest and engagement with my story surprised me and made it an absolute joy to write! Thanks so much to each of you who read along, and especially those who favorited it or took time to review. I would love to hear your thoughts on the path Lizzie and Darcy have taken, and on their future._


	21. You make me strong

_I had an irresistible idea and wrote this alternate ending for A Different Crisis. It diverges near the end of Chapter 17. Darcy joins Lizzie for a video. While filming, she has an epiphany about what he has done for her. And…here we go!_

_(Text in italics taken from the end of Chapter 17.)_

%%%

**Alternate ending: You make me strong**

_Wednesday, February 6_

_Lizzie quickly wrapped up the video and turned off her camera._

"_How was that?" he asked. "Do we need to refilm anything?"_

"_I don't think so," she said. She glanced at the window behind them, streaked now with rain. "If we did, it would have to be the whole thing. It's almost dark now, so it would be really obvious if I edited in later footage. But…I think this was really good."_

_He nodded, glad their effort had pleased her, but a little disappointed to be done filming. "I will be leaving soon. I know you don't have far to go, but would you like a ride?" he asked._

"_Oh! Um…". She looked out at the rain again, then smiled. "That would be great!"_

%%%

Darcy's steps were slow as he approached Lizzie's office. Not because of a reluctance to see her, of course. Quite the opposite. He was eager for her presence; he just did not want his time with her limited to a short elevator ride to his car and a short drive to her apartment. With Lizzie nearby, solitary evenings were acutely unsatisfying.

He needed a legitimate reason to invite her company for the evening. An outright invitation would be too bold for now. If Gigi were free, he could simply invite Lizzie to join them for dinner and an evening's entertainment, knowing his sister would contrive to give them some private time. If Gigi had a tennis match, Lizzie would surely be eager to join him in cheering her on. Unfortunately, she had only a conditioning session tonight. Most unhelpful.

Perhaps they could discuss something Domino-related over dinner? He felt certain that she had even more well-reasoned ideas about the project than she brought up at the group meetings. It would be a conversation enjoyable to both of them…but might make her think he had only a professional interest in her. He would not risk that.

Other vague ideas were also considered and rejected during the brief walk to Lizzie's office. He sighed as he reached her door. At least he would have the next few minutes with her before dropping her off.

"Lizzie?" he said, rapping a knuckle on her door. She stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped at her waist, while her backpack and camera bag sat neatly on her desk chair. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. But, um…do you have a few minutes? Could we talk?"

"Certainly," he replied, wanting to laugh. Gaining more time with her had been all too easy. A closer look sobered him, however. He closed the door behind him, set down his laptop bag, and joined her on the couch. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm fine. It's just…I finally figured out why you're doing all this."

"'All this?'" he echoed.

"Approving my videos. Volunteering to be in them. I mean, I know you said you, um, admire them objectively, but it's a lot more than that. I don't know why it took me this long to notice."

Darcy froze at her words, heart rate escalating. Lizzie had guessed his feelings for her. That in itself wasn't a problem—he was heartily sick of his indecision over when and how to declare himself again—but what were _her_ feelings now that she knew? He searched her face, her eyes, desperate for a smile, some hint of happiness that would guarantee his own.

He saw nothing. Lizzie looked solemn. Uncertain. Tense.

"I am sorry," he said quietly, dread flooding through him. He feared that Lizzie did not return his feelings but was attempting to let him down gently this time, away from the camera's view. But a gentle rejection was still a rejection. He looked down, his voice pained. "It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable or…or impose myself upon you."

"Impose yourself?" she repeated, sounding confused. Without waiting for a response, she continued, "No, I meant…I always knew my videos might come back to bite me. You know, a defamation lawsuit, or my journalism ethics professor or a job interviewer asking what the hell I thought I was doing when I posted footage of you."

"Ah," he said inanely. Did that mean she hadn't guessed…?

"But I don't have to worry about that now, because…because you gave me legal permission to film here, and volunteered to show everyone that you're a willing participant now, and even gave your consent _on camera._"

This at least he could answer safely and confidently. "What happened is forgiven now and in the past. I would not have you suffer for it in any way."

"But…". She frowned still as she tried to convey her meaning. "You've gone to all this trouble, just to protect me from all the consequences of the ways I hurt _you_!"

"It is no trouble, Lizzie. I volunteered to be in your videos because I was—_am_—happy to be part of what you're doing. As for the…protection," he paused, choosing his words deliberately, "I want to see you happy and safe and successful. Anything I can do toward those ends is gladly done."

The effect of his words upon Lizzie was remarkable. Her mouth made a little soundless "Oh!," her expression softening even as her eyes lit with an emotion indefinable and intoxicating.

Then, quietly, she said, "You must be the best man I've ever known."

_The best man she'd ever known._ Lizzie Bennet had just said that about him. William Darcy. The man she had seen at his worst. The man she had thoroughly and justifiably hated. Her hard-won praise buoyed his heart to ridiculous heights. It was gratifying. It was humbling. But more than that…

It meant there was a chance for them now. He could not be mistaken. If her opinion of him could change this radically, surely her heart would follow. Hope went galloping through his veins, its intensity robbing his ability to speak or respond.

Then, almost in a whisper, came even more astonishing words. "I—I love you."

Darcy forgot even to breathe. Long seconds ticked by as he struggled to process her words and the joy he rather knew than felt.

At last, dimly, he became aware that her face was now painfully flushed as she looked down, that her voice was shaking as she stammered something about not expecting anything from him.

Lizzie thought he was rejecting her. The realization effectively blew away the fog of his thoughts, spurring him into action.

His hands reached out to cup her face, urging her eyes to meet his. "I love you, Lizzie," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I have been waiting and longing to tell you."

"Really?" she breathed. "I didn't think you could, after…".

He shook his head. "I love you even more now than I did last fall."

Her tears spilled over at his words. He brushed aside the first with his thumb, then drew her close, eliminating the space between them. She came to him so easily, the top of her head fitting perfectly against his neck. He held her then, trying to soothe even as he reeled from her words.

Lizzie loved him. Every word in that sentence would have been unbelievable only minutes ago.

She had declared that love—the import of her last words was finally sinking in—even though doubting that he could return her feelings. Her courage humbled him even more than her earlier words of praise. Darcy tightened his arms around her reflexively, as if that would give her the assurance she needed.

No. Her breathing evened before long, but he could feel the tension in her still. She needed more than his embrace. As he'd seen before, she needed his words.

"I never stopped loving you." He hesitated, wishing belatedly that he was more practiced in expressing his emotions. But there was nothing for it now but to continue. "I thought I had, but seeing you here quickly proved otherwise. Since learning of your videos, I—."

He would not have dwelled on it, but at that moment Lizzie leaned back a little, meeting his gaze with questioning eyes. She wanted to know.

"It hurt," he said simply. "You know that. I—I wished for a brief time that I could stop loving you. But," his voice became firm, "that time has long since passed. Your letter showed you were reckoning with what had happened. Your videos…they were painful at times, yes, but they also showed _you_, your life and relationships and growth that I knew little of, for all my previous observation. Watching them, and working through this with you these past days, has made me love you more and…_better_, I think."

It was the right thing to say, judging by the smile Lizzie wore by the time he finished. It was a smile uncontained, full of happiness and relief. Radiant with love. He could recognize it now, and basked in it.

"Thank you," she said softly, fingers tracing along his arm. "I love you too."

She could say that from now until forever, and he would never tire of hearing it.

"My, er, Darcybot malfunction after your declaration was from surprise. I had cautious hopes, but after our conversation Sunday I did not think you were ready to see me in that light. I have never been happier to be proved wrong."

"Sunday?"

"At your apartment, after we watched the footage. You seemed not to envision me as part of your life."

"What do you mean?" she said, brow furrowing. "I didn't say that. I _wouldn't _have said that!"

"Well, you said you had hoped I would never know about your videos, and I assumed that meant…". His voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Sure, because I knew they would hurt you! I didn't…I—I never dreamed you would want to be with me after you knew what I'd done. So yeah, I guess I didn't _envision_ being with you. It wasn't possible, so I tried not to let myself think how much I was starting to want it. But," and her cheeks colored a little as she said it, "I've been falling for you ever since I came here."

Ever since she'd come to Pemberley. Lizzie had cared for him already before the saga of the last few weeks. Before the angst and guilt and gratitude. Darcy hadn't known how much he needed that reassurance. He breathed deep as he took it all in, the last of his shock and uncertainty giving way to thorough joy.

He needed to touch her. His arms still slung loose around her as they talked weren't enough after such a declaration. One hand came up to rest against her neck, her hair brushing warm and silky against his knuckles as his thumb trailed along her jaw. "And you revealed your feelings despite those doubts."

"I didn't mean to tell you. At least, that's not why I asked if we could talk. I was just going to thank you for everything, but the more we talked…well, you've been _acting_ like you care for me, and…I just had to say it."

His voice was low as he said, "I cannot tell you how moved I am that you took that risk for me. For us."

Lizzie drew a shaky breath, then smiled sweetly and tilted her cheek into his hand. "I love that there's an 'us.'"

With that, his ability to resist her was gone. He kissed her once, then again and again, gentle, tender, exploring kisses. Lizzie's hands ran up his chest to his shoulders, pulling herself closer as she kissed him back.

Darcy couldn't have said how long they remained that way, asking and answering some of the questions that had plagued them, giving and receiving reassurance, kissing slow and heartfelt when words were insufficient.

"I was grasping at straws on my way here," he said some time later, "trying to think up some excuse to spend the evening with you."

"Did you come up with anything?"

"No, but I think an approach I rejected then might work now." She raised her eyebrows in question, and he smiled a little, loving that he now had the freedom to ask, "May I have the pleasure of your company this evening, Ms. Bennet?"

"The pleasure will be mine, Mr. Darcy," she replied with laughing formality. "I need to edit my video at some point, but other than that we can do whatever you want."

"Dinner then? And after that, might I look on while you edit? I am curious about your process."

She agreed readily, and they rose to pick up their bags.

"Hey, I know what we can talk about over dinner," she said. "I didn't film this, so you can help me decide how to tell my viewers we're together."

_We're together._ It was all still so new that those words loosed another burst of happiness within him. Telling her viewers could be straightforward enough—merely sitting before the camera and saying "we're together" would do the trick, though Lizzie would surely want something more dramatic—but then he caught the glint in her eye.

"And by 'tell them' you mean 'troll them?'"

"Yep. With both of us brainstorming, we're sure to come up with something good."

The urge to tease her was irresistible when she was looking so playful. "I'm not sure it behooves me to encourage your diabolical tendencies."

Lizzie, being Lizzie, gave as good as she got. "Well, if you don't want to troll, I think we should do costume theater of what happened. Show rather than tell, you know. I didn't make you be me today because it was your first time, but the next video would be your _second_ time…".

Darcy cringed and laughed and wrapped his arms around her, all at the same time. "You are an absolute delight."

Her face glowed at his words, but she was not yet done teasing him. "That doesn't exactly discourage my diabolical tendencies."

He laughed again and kissed her forehead. "I adore you, Lizzie."

That brought her up on tiptoe, hands holding onto his arms for balance, to share a quick kiss.

"Sooo," she drawled once back on her feet, "which will it be? Troll or me?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" he teased. Then he linked hands with her and moved toward the door. "Which cuisine pairs best with trolling, do you think?"

%%%

_Thanks for reading! Can you think of any particularly diabolical way they might troll us viewers in this scenario? And which do you like better, this or the original ending?_


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